


The Legend of Korra, Book Five:  Culminations

by YakFruit



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Canon Continuation, F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-15
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26474332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YakFruit/pseuds/YakFruit
Summary: After the defeat of Kuvira, Avatar Korra and Asami Sato sneak off into the Spirit World for a well-deserved vacation.  Meanwhile, the United Republic of Nations struggles under the weight of victory: a capital half in ruins, a spirit portal easily accessible by the general public, and a member nation once again on the brink of total anarchy.  While Korra's allies are besieged by a world full of problems, will they notice the impending cataclysm in time to stop it?
Relationships: Bolin/Opal (Avatar), Korra/Asami Sato
Comments: 22
Kudos: 10





	1. Vacation

In the Place-of-No-Places, It was.

It did not live. It did not die. It was.

Its siblings were not like It. They moved. And once, long ago, two Places had suddenly appeared in the Place-of-No-Places. Its light sister went to one point, and Its dark brother went to the other, and they, and the two unprecedented places, vanished. Leaving It in a Place-of-No-Places that once again properly resembled the name.

It was alone, but It was not lonely. It was.

It was torpid, but It was not ever to wake, for inert is what IT was.

So when suddenly, in a fuchsia brilliance, a third Place suddenly appeared in the Place-of-No-Places, It did not move towards it. It was not eager to leave, like Its combative siblings.

It was not eager for anything. It was.

But It was moved. It was drawn. For suddenly in the Place-of-No-Places, there was someplace to go.

* * *

Korra of the Southern Water Tribe, current incarnation of the Avatar, Vanquisher of Vaatu, Champion of Republic City, and so on and so forth… woke from her nap in alarm. She was filled with the sensation of someone standing over her, watching her sleep. But there was nothing but clear sky above. Lacking a threat, Korra’s sense of being watched quickly faded. She yawned.

The spongy surface of a giant mushroom-tree had proven itself a comfortable mattress, and the bright sky above a more than adequate blanket. Weather was not exactly a thing in the Spirit World, as the surrounding environment tended to morph into a state reflective of the mood of the beholder. And Korra’s mood was bright skies and balmy weather because this vacation: Was. Awesome.

And the reason it was so awesome was still asleep nearby: Asami Sato. The raven-haired young woman was friend, comrade, and confidant. Korra’s eyes moved along Asumi’s body. Tracing the lines of a lithe female figure which Korra had once found somewhat threatening, in a territorial sort of way. Back when they’d been inadvertent romantic rivals. But that was long ago. That juvenile love triangle having long since collapsed, thank the spirits.

But Asami’s body was undeniably woman. While Korra’s was a bit broader; A bit more muscular. Still female, of course, but… tomboy-ish. Enough perhaps of the masculine that any male partner of Korra’s might see a woman like Asami and experience following eyes and swiveling neck. It was an old insecurity that no longer stung, but Korra had worried enough about it to remember the emotion with vivid clarity. But when she looked at Asami now, Korra didn’t feel that old anxiety. She felt something… different. Something good. Something a lot like how she’d felt about a certain young fire-bender in Republic Stadium, all those years ago.

And look at how that had worked out. A frown crossed Korra’s face.

The sunlight of the Spirit World dimmed slightly. Asami stirred in her sleep, a frown creasing over her lips, which were without lipstick. A new sight for Korra. Asami’s makeup was practically a part of her face. There was some part of Asami’s self-identity in that makeup, so Korra had been unsuccessful in convincing her that she didn’t need to make herself up for hikes through the Spirit World. The lack of lipstick had been a hard-fought concession, and had so upset Asami in the end that Korra had abandoned further effort.

If Asami Sato only felt like Asami Sato with her make-up just so. Then so be it. Korra liked her for her, and had resolved not to broach the matter again.

And maybe Korra more-than-liked Asami. And Asami seemed to feel something similar. Or at least, she seemed to, as far as Korra was able to tell. There were certain looks. Certain… intimacies… that didn’t feel like, say… a friendship with Bolin; Or like a working respect with Lin Beifong; or a romance-turned-friendship like with Mako. Please spirits, don’t let this be like that last…

And whether it was a sign or simply dumb chance, Asami Sato stirred and awoke. She blinked open her green eyes, checked to see if Korra was nearby. Korra smiled at her, and wouldn’t have been able to prevent herself from doing so if she’d wanted to. Seemingly satisfied that the universe was as it should be, Asami extended herself into a full-body stretch, like a cat in a sunbeam.

“How long was I out?” said Asami, rolling back onto her back to look at Korra.

“Who knows? But I just woke up myself,” said Korra.

“So maybe a thousand years? We’ll go back through the Spirit Portal and be in the future?”

It wasn’t the first time Asami had voiced that particular worry. Apparently, there was some story from Asami’s childhood that wasn’t in the Water Tribe repertoire. Something about a man sleeping so long, all his loved ones and friends were long dead after he awoke. A tragic prospect, to be certain, but just a story.

“Time is weird here, but it’s not that weird,” said Korra, “We’ve only been in the Spirit World for about a week. Maybe a little less.”

“How are you sure? The sun doesn’t set. It moves, yes, but wherever it wants.”

“I’m sure. I can feel it. It’s an Avatar thing.”

Asami’s eyes narrowed in amused suspicion. “An Avatar thing, huh?”

“That’s right.”

“Well then, almighty Avatar… where are we going today?”

Korra turned to look to the east. Or at least, what she was calling east today. Direction and distance was about as inexact as time in the Spirit World. Yet like how Korra knew roughly how much time was passing, she also knew where the three portals to the physical world were in relation to her current position. She could feel them. Like a giant, vibrating buzz that hovered just beyond the visible horizon. Two relatively close together in one direction, where the older portals existed near the Tree of Time; and the third portal in the opposite direction: The strange accident of Kovira’s super weapon run amok.

“I think we’ll get to Iroh’s cottage today,” said Korra, having the vague sense she was right. She’d been there before, after the old general had rescued her from an early misadventure in this strange otherworld.

“Iroh?” said Asami, “You mean General Iroh? Lord Zuko’s uncle?”

“Yeah.”

“He isn’t dead?”

“No. Well, sort of. He left his body and moved here permanently. So his body is long gone, but-”

Asami suddenly stepped forward and grasped Korra’s arm. “Korra! Is my father here, too?”

Mr. Sato, perhaps in an act of redemption for prior sins, (or perhaps just to save his daughter, Asami,) had sacrificed himself to help defeat Kovira and save Republic City- what was left of it, anyway. He was a duplicitous enemy; One of several madmen Korra would prefer to forget, but could not. Not if she wanted to accept her past and learn from it, rather than be haunted by it.

Ironically, that healthy mental concept was a boon from a different defeated enemy: Korra’s mind conjured a vision of a bearded, robed man sitting cross-legged in mid-air. Floating meditatively in darkness, alone and chained to the earth.

“Korra! Hello?! Is my dad here?” said Asami, her eyes still sparkling with new hope.

“What? Oh. Um..”

Was there a good way to say this? Should she lie? No. False hope would be far, far worse than a lack of tact. Maybe she was overthinking it. Just go right at the truth. Face it head on. That always worked, right? It did. Eventually, anyway.

“No, Asami. I’m sorry.” said Korra, worried over the pain she was about to cause. “Your father isn’t anywhere in the Spirit World. This isn’t the afterlife, whatever and wherever that is. Iroh came here in his own way. Like an astral projection, but… permanent. He didn’t die and then his soul came here. Human souls go somewhere else.” Mostly, anyway- but Korra thought it best to keep that last part to herself.

Sorrow etched itself over Asami’s angular features, and she turned away with glistening eyes. The clear sky around them abruptly clouded, thunder rumbling in the unseen distance. Asami’s distress was affecting their surroundings. Korra urgently reached forward and pulled her into a hug. Mr. Sato’s death was still a fresh wound, and the sudden sunrise and sunset of hope must have torn open the scab. Korra, having learned silence was sometimes comfort enough, held Asami as the tears ran their course. The rumbling thunder faded, but the clouds still gathered. A light sprinkle of rain danced along Korra’s arms.

After a time, Asami pulled away, her eye-shadow in streaks down her face. “Sorry, Korra. I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up, but it happened so suddenly… I thought I was about to see him again.”

Korra, unsure of what was right to say, settled on a simple: “It’s okay. I understand.”

The platitude seemed to serve, however. Asami began to focus herself, steadied her breathing, wiped her face, and then reached into her travel pouch. ‘Pop’ went the case of her hand-mirror and Asami was all business as she evaluated her makeup situation and set to whatever repairs she found necessary. It was the surest sign of an Asami who was in control and ready to move on. Once she was done with her repairs, anyway.

Meanwhile, Korra hunted through her own pack to find breakfast: fruit concentrate bars. It was petty fare, but dense and high energy. The perfect travel food. Still, Korra was hopeful Iroh would lay out a banquet for them, despite their unannounced visit. She had not spent much time with the old general, but he seemed to revel in the small pleasures of life- or… afterlife, in this case. Visitors would surely just be a welcome excuse for Iroh to enjoy more food, more tea, and other such harmless hedonism. Korra could go for a slice of that one cake she saw a few years ago.

‘Click’ went Asami’s mirror. She was closing up, almost ready to go. A chill wind rustled through Korra’s hair. It would be a wet, cold hike if they didn’t repair the weather. Asami needed to cheer up, but how to do it? Korra just needed to be bright and happy, and that would pass to Asami, right?

Asami was standing up, resettling her travel pack on her back. “All right, I’m ready.”

“You bet you’re ready!” shouted Korra, taking a dramatic stance, “Ready for another day of stunning adventure!”

Silence. A deadpan look.

“... are you doing a Bolin impression?”

Korra winced. “Uh- I was trying to cheer you up. But I guess enthusiasm isn’t my thing.”

Asami laughed, a musical sound loud in the surrounding silence. “No, it really isn’t.” But she was smiling. The clouds around them were dissipating. Sunshine was glowing again around them. “But I appreciate the idea.”

They were ready to move. The mushroom-tree was only a couple meters tall, but Korra used it as an excuse to pull Asami in by the hip. Asami gave one of those smiles that sent confusingly enticing lightning through Korra’ body. Then they stepped off the edge of the mushroom together.

Korra felt the air along her skin, willed it to move, willed it to bend itself before her and Asami’s falling feet. In a puff of dust, a cushion of wind halted their fall and set them gently to the earth.

* * *

Zaheer remained secluded in the underbrush as he watched the Avatar and her companion venture forth from the mushroom-tree. He would wait for them to gain some distance before breaking cover and following, as was his habit these last few days. It was obvious to him that the two young women were not on any sort of urgent mission, but simply traveling for some frivolous reason. And that apparent frivolity was what held his current attention.

Korra and the brunette were far enough away now. Zaheer uncrossed his legs, stood, and started after them, moving quietly at a safe distance. It was an easy task for someone trained by the White Lotus since childhood. A childhood of training, of discipline. No time for frivolity or trivial adventures. Oh, no. There was duty. Just duty.

Prison provided ample time for self-reflection. And most recently, Zaheer meditated exclusively on the concept of duty. From childhood, he’d had his duty to the White Lotus. And as a teenager, he discovered the secret sect within the secret sect: the Red Lotus. Zaheer heard their message, and he had agreed that the White Lotus was too mutated from its purpose. It was not sharing knowledge. It was not aiding the people of the world. It was finding Avatars, protecting Avatars, serving Avatars. Slaves to Avatars was all they were. Slaves to a tradition thousands and thousands of years old, all focused on a battle between two powerful spirits which seemed utterly and hopelessly arbitrary.

After several months of circular arguments with himself, Zaheer had finally accepted that he’d just been an angry teenager. Plain old, everyday mad youth. Mad at his duty, and mad at whatever forced that duty upon him: the White Lotus, and of course, the Avatar. All the Avatars. The entire system of rebirth, itself. And why? Because he’d been a teenage boy who was tired of monasteries, vows, and being bored out of his mind. He’d wanted to have fun. He’d wanted to go out at night, like the normal people he saw in markets and villages. He’d wanted, without knowing at the time, someone special to share life with. He’d wanted to get laid, spirits have the truth!

Teenaged Zaheer got none of what he wanted. No justification for his endless duty. No release valve to ease the pressure his teenage hormones put on him in his constrained, unchosen lifestyle. So damn right he’d joined the Red Lotus. Damn the White Lotus. Damn the Avatar. And come to think of it, damn duty itself. And damn all things that forced duty upon others. Nations. Governments. Rulers. Damn them all for their exploitation, their domination, their enslavement. The only obvious answer was to burn it all down, starting with the Avatar cycle itself. Such was the conviction in Zaheer’s young mind, and his elders were greatly pleased with his zeal. His ascension to leadership in the Red Lotus was swift.

Angsty folly. That was Zaheer’s honest self-evaluation of his own existence thus far. An angry, secluded fool with delusions of grandeur. He and his followers failed their very first operation: kidnap the juvenile Avatar. 13 years of solitary confinement followed, but then, in a weird twist of fate, a once-in-ten-millenia event suddenly granted Zaheer airbending. And with that new power, he’d almost turned the grand delusion into reality.

Almost.

But he’d been defeated again. Captured. Imprisoned. Locked away from sight and thought by officials too self-righteous to have decency or the _fucking guts_ to just kill him and get it over with!

Zaheer’s foot stepped on a dry branch, sending up a loud crack in the surrounding forest. He froze, watching the preceding women for reaction. Korra and her companion continued on their way. They hadn't heard the snap. Zaheer took a deep breath, centering himself.

Calm. Calm. Focus.

Anger was still a weakness. A foe to wrestle. There was nothing to do back in the physical world, where his body quietly floated, alone in the dark of his subterranean prison. Nothing to accomplish. No way to better himself. So Zaheer continued his monkish habits, learned from childhood: he trained his mind, he explored himself, and he ventured far and wide in the Spirit World while he did so. Without that escape, he would certainly lose himself to despair and madness.

And while there was much for Zaheer to be angry about, he’d been surprised to find Korra the Avatar was not in that category. When she’d defiantly appeared in Zaheer’s cell, boldly claiming to not be afraid of him, seeking closure to whatever was troubling her... Zaheer read her like an open book: Her face, her body, her voice all told him she was terribly afraid of him. She was crippled and desperate.

And in that moment, Zaheer had experienced a revelation: there was no oppression of the world by the Avatar. There was only this young, traumatized girl trembling before him. Such was the great oppressor demonized by the Red Lotus: a scared child he’d failed to murder. And Zaheer had realized that all his life, his obsession, had been spent putting tears in the eyes of a child who hadn’t chosen to be the Avatar. Just as he himself hadn’t chosen to join the White Lotus.

Zaheer had Awakened in that moment, all his wasted youth a bad dream. Born again. And in his infancy, Zaheer christened his new life by freeing Korra from the trauma his unborn self had inflicted upon her. And then he’d slept. Slept long and productively, examining the nightmare of his past self, finding the errors and missteps along the path.

An angsty teenager without conviction. A rebel without a cause. A fool who looked for a simple solution to a problem he didn’t understand. In short: an anarchist. But a proactive one, so far as the Earth Kingdom was concerned. He’d destroyed the entire government by murdering their tyrannical Queen. But that hadn’t really been a success, either. From what Zaheer understood from his gossiping guards: the population found itself even more oppressed by the lack of laws, struggling daily against criminals and other selfish types which exploited the chaos and broken law enforcement. And the answer to all that banditry: Kovira the Uniter. A force of tyranny greater than the old monarchy ever was, granted power by a populace so frustrated with anarchy that they gladly handed up their freedom for the relief of security.

But Korra the Avatar had fixed that mistake. Zaheer’s great oppressor thus gifted freedom to the multitudes that the Red Lotus had “liberated”. Was this not the magic of the Avatar? The true purpose of the Avatar cycle? The balancing of the skew Zaheer had created! The White Lotus were not out-of-touch slaves to the Avatar. They understood. They had recognized the correct path and pushed for it. It was the Red Lotus which had gone wrong, and it was angsty, horny, frustrated teenage Zaheer they’d ensnared to a false path.

That past Zaheer was not the Zaheer which now stalked Korra and Asami’s steps through the Spirit World. His suddenly obsessive vigil only intermittently broken by the need to return to his physical form to maintain his own life force.

This Zaheer’s voyeurism was a bored curiosity, not a malicious hunt. And when this Zaheer stood over the two young women when they slept, watching the steady rise and fall of their breasts, he did so out of concern, and he warded off prowling predatory spirits who circled the women when they chose foolishly exposed campsites. For 13 years, Zaheer had safaried in the Spirit World, escaping the imprisonment of his physical body. He, more than anyone alive, knew its ways and hazards, and how to combat most of them without the need for bending.

And so, like he’d done for many days already, he silently followed the women like a shadow, and when they descended into Iroh’s valley, he found himself a secluded nook to wait and watch.

* * *

Iroh’s cottage was in the middle of a verdant valley, sitting cozily within like a single colored egg in a hay basket. It seemed miles away, but in the strange ways of the Spirit World, distance was fuzzy. Perhaps greased by Korra and Asami’s desires, the landscape flowed around them, and in seemingly no time at all, they’d arrived. Nestled amidst flowing long grasses, a white cottage rested in the sun, its roof angled and tiled in common Fire-Kingdom architecture. In the yard, a circular table was shaded by a circular reeded umbrella. Three chairs sat expectantly around.

“This is it, I assume,” said Asami, her eyes wandering the property.

“Yes, just as I remember it,” said Korra, remembering that brief dreamlike moment years ago. “But that table used to be bigger.”

“Should we knock?”

But just as Korra looked towards the cottage’s front door, it opened, and a rotund old man emerged with a large tray complete with tea set, small cakes, and plates.

“Ah, hello,” said Iroh, a satisfied smile on his face. “I had a feeling I would have company today. And you’re just in time for tea.”

Korra no longer felt her past lives, but she felt the same emotions as when she first met the old man in the dark woods: safety and unquestionable benevolence. She smiled happily, that same feeling inside her again. “Iroh, it’s good to see you again.”

“And you, as well,” said Iroh, lumbering his way across the short lawn with a contented smile on his face. “And you have a friend with you? Good!”

“Yes, this is Asami Sato,” said Korra.

Asami stepped forward and bowed. “It’s good to meet you, Sir Iroh.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Sato. And Iroh is just fine. I’m not a Sir anymore,” Iroh laughed as if that latter fact still gave him joyous relief. “You are most welcome. Please, have a seat, both of you.”

Asami and Korra took chairs while Iroh calmly put down his tray in the center of the table. “So, Sato is the name,” chattered Iroh in his sedate voice, “That sounds like an old, old Fire Kingdom name.”

Asami bowed her head in recognition. “I believe so. But my family immigrated away several generations ago. My father was born in Republic City, and so was I.”

“Oh, ho. Is that so?” said Iroh, setting cups in front of Asami and Korra. His eyes flickered away to the distance and he froze for a moment. Then he straightened up and squinted into the distance. “Is there another person in your company?”

“No,” said Korra, her eyes following Iroh’s gaze. Far off, on the edge of the valley, someone was waving their arms at them, even going so far as jumping in the effort to get their attention.

Asami was also standing. “Who is that?”

Korra squinted, focused on the figure, filling herself with the desire to see more clearly. And in the manner of the Spirit World, the figure suddenly seemed closer. It was a man in robes, with a thick beard and scarred face. A look of intense ferocity was on his face and he was yelling something. Korra knew who it was in an instant, that face having haunted her for three years.

“It’s Zaheer!”

“Who?” said Iroh.

“Zaheer!” hissed Asami, reaching for her power glove. “How did he escape?”

“I don’t think he did,” said Korra, anxiety and anger rolling through her mind. Twilight suddenly descended on Iroh’s little valley. “He must be projecting himself here.”

“What could he want?”

“I don’t know, but it can’t be good.”

“Now, now,” said Iroh, “Don’t jump to conclus-”

* * *

Zaheer sat and watched Korra and her companion traverse the valley, himself obscured by the long grass. The fire nation cottage was their obvious destination. Zaheer had never seen this place, not in all his explorations of the Spirit World, but the Avatar seemed to know where she was going. There didn’t seem to be any threat in this place. The entire area was filled with a calmness Zaheer found comforting.

Time passed. Korra reached her destination and what appeared to be an old man emerged from the cottage to meet them. They all walked towards the small table in front of the building. Zaheer let his gaze wander over the countryside. The waving grasslands seemed to run for an indeterminate distance, broken only by the hint of a dark forest beyond the opposite side of the cabin. He sighed and resolved to return to his physical body, he’d been projecting for too long already. Then, his eyes wandered into the sky.

And locked on something far, far above. A grey something. A small grey something. A spirit perhaps? Zaheer frowned and stared at it a moment, filling himself with the desire to see more clearly, and so he did. Then he felt his body go cold with a dread he’d never felt in his life.

Zaheer shot to his feet in alarm, his eyes not leaving the object in the sky. He knew what it was. He knew the ancient Air Nation texts. So he knew it was not small. No. It was vast, but still very far away. But it was falling. Falling ever closer. And when it arrived, everything everywhere would end.

“Avatar!” screamed Zaheer, his voice cracking with the effort. But the cottage was far, and he had no idea how far his voice carried in this place. He waved his arms at the distant cottage, but the women and the old man were gathered about the table, no sign they’d noticed him. “Korra!”

Zaheer stole a glance back upward and saw that smaller orbs had broken from the larger grey mass, and they were falling too, but falling much faster. Zaheer began leaping, waving his arms in desperation. The Avatar could not be lost. Must not be lost! Or there would be no hope at all!

“Avatar!” screamed Zaheer, his throat seeming to tear with the effort. “Get away!”

Korra and the others were looking in his direction. Zaheer was encouraged. They saw him. Surely, Korra would recognize him. That would bring her out for a fight, if he knew the young woman at all. And that would at least get her moving.

Then an enormous grey globule fell atop the cottage, the small table, and the Avatar and her companions, swallowing them all.  
“No!”

Zaheer looked upward in rage, then in shock. He dove to the side. Another grey globule thudded to the ground where he’d just been standing. It plopped down, jiggled slightly like a giant mound of thick pudding, and then went still. Zaheer regained his feet, eyes to the sky. More globes were falling, a heavy, fat rain.

If only he could use his bending and reach the cottage! But as it was, Zaheer knew he had already projected far too long. He couldn’t afford to hike across an entire valley, now dotted with the grey globules, and even more falling. He needed to return to his physical body, and more, he needed to warn the Avatar’s allies. Warn the world, lest the very end of everything arrive unseen and unexpected.

With a growl of frustration, Zaheer closed his eyes, centered his spirit, and vanished.

When Zaheer opened his eyes again, he found himself in his dark cell.

“Guards!” he screamed. He willed himself toward the cell door, lost somewhere in the darkness before him. His body flew through the air, then jerked to a stop in a clank of chains, his ankles shackled hopelessly to the stone floor.

“Guards! Guards! The Avatar! Guaaards!”

His voice echoed around and around in the darkness, but it was as much a prisoner as he was.


	2. A Routine Rescue

The new spirit portal was a real headache. Lieutenant Mako of the Republic City Police didn’t like it. He didn’t like how it was in the middle of downtown: a giant cylinder of light, a beacon for fools. He didn’t like how anyone could just walk into it. And he especially didn’t like that people who did walk into it sometimes didn’t come back out.

That latter reason was why he was currently standing in the midnight cold rather than being in bed. Some kids on a bravery challenge snuck through the barriers and went into the spirit world. Two of them came back, one of them didn’t. One hour and one panicked mother later, Mako awoke to a phone call from Police Chief Lin Beifong: “Wake the hell up. A kid’s lost in the portal. Get your crew and get her back. Pronto.”

So Mako, dressed in uniform overcoat, stood in the eerie glow of the spirit portal. The downtown skyscrapers twinkled all around him. It was an eerie contrast between a human city and this primordial, supernatural force shooting up out of the earth. And the new police barriers and the recently assigned (and very glum-looking) police guards didn’t do much to reduce the strangeness of it all.

Lieutenant Mako didn’t take his officers into the spirit world, even the benders. They might find the child, they might not, but either way, a couple officers would be missing by the end of the operation. Not because Mako’s officers were incompetent, but because the Spirit World was proving to be incredibly dangerous to anyone not ready for it.

For the first few days, it was fine. People were staying away from the spirit-vine crater in the middle of downtown, like a sort of sacred park. That was good. The Spirit World was dangerous. Spirits themselves could be dangerous, depending on their natural inclinations. Mako hadn’t even thought anyone would think otherwise.

Then people were walking up to the portal and touching it. Then they were going through. Then people were going on picnics on the other side. A total collapse of good sense and the simple concept of using caution around what one doesn’t understand…

Then people stopped coming back. A single person in the second week. Gone. He’d gone to explore the Spirit World for the afternoon and his wife reported him missing the next day. Airbender Jinora went through the portal to find him, but found no trace.

Three people vanished the next week. An entire birthday party the week after that, except one bloodied survivor gibbering a gruesome tale featuring Piranha-Crows. And that had splashed all over the newspapers: ‘Nine Devoured Alive by Ravenous Birds in Spirit World’. But with that tragedy, the citizens of Republic City finally realized the Spirit World was pretty dangerous after all, and by the way, why wasn’t the Republic City Police doing their damn jobs? Why were they letting people go into the Spirit World when it was so dangerous?

Police Chief Beifong was quoted as saying: “Hot stoves are dangerous. Should I place an officer next to each one to keep morons away?”

That… didn’t go over well. Not with the people. Not with the city’s leadership. But Lin Beifong was known to be brash, so when the monthly petition to have President Reiko fire her showed up, there were only a few more names on it than usual. It was enough to force a public rebuke from city hall, and that forced Lin to devote police assets to the portal. Up went a police barricade around the spirit portal. Up went signs. Red warning signs depicting several cartoony ways to die, including one panicked-looking stick figure being bitten by several fish-birds.

It seemed to work, despite the silliness of it all. The frivolous exploration of the Spirit World ended. But kids would be kids, and their little bravery challenge may well have turned fatal. Mako hoped not. He wanted the kid back safe, and not just for the kid’s sake, but, damnit, for political reasons, too. Chief Beifong didn’t need a dead kid on her hands. Neither did the city government. Neither did the general population. With a great many citizens still sifting through the rubble of their homes and businesses, some good news for Republic City would be beyond welcome. So when Mako heard a phlegmy grunt in the night sky above him, he was both relieved and anxious to get moving.

“Hey, look! It’s Mako!” said an enthusiastic male voice from above. “Hey, Mako!”

Mako raised a hand in greeting, still unable to see the source of the voice in the dark. He was partly blinded by the bright glow of the nearby portal. But he knew who it was, no question. Only his brother, Bolin, could be so peppy this late… or this early. What time was it, anyway?

A grumpier voice said: “We know it’s Mako. He’s the one that called us.”

That was Kai, without a doubt.

There was another wet grunt. A flying bison loomed out of the night sky. With all the grace of a pile of wet laundry, the bison landed with a thump, its large snout glistening with mucus. It was Juicy… Opal Beifong’s rather unsanitary mount. And hopping down off it was a broad-shouldered young man in a green tunic and an eager grin.

“Bolin,” said Mako, smiling despite his own fatigue.

“Hey, bro!”

They clasped hands. Mako felt Bolin’s familiar, strong grip; looked upon Bolin’s cheerful face; and he was filled with the nostalgia of the past. Back when it was just the two of them, trying to make a life for themselves in the city. Back when winning or losing a bending match was the most critical issue of their lives. That was a long, long time ago, now.

“Thanks for coming,” said Mako, his stoic face not betraying an ounce of his sudden reminiscence.

“A child in danger?!” said Bolin, flexing dramatically. “A job for Nuktuk: Hero of-!”

“Bolin, _please_ ,” said a lithe young woman with shoulder-length black hair. It was Opal in her airbender wingsuit, scratching Juicy behind a massive ear. “It’s too early for Nuktuk, okay?”

Bolin deflated. “Okay...”

Two shorter people had also hopped down from the bison’s saddle, both in airbender wingsuits. A girl and a boy, both youngish teenagers.

“Any changes?” said the small girl with a seriousness that defied her youthful appearance. Her brown hair was chin-length, but constrained by a bun just left of center on her head. If Mako didn’t know who she was, the blue arrow tattooed to her forehead would be obvious to all: an airbending master, and of those, there were currently only two.

“Nothing yet, Jinora,” reported Mako, unconsciously standing a little more rigidly. He may be eight or so years older than Tenzin’s eldest child, but Jinora’s accomplishments were equal to his own. And as she was the second senior airbending master, she was technically second-in-command of the entire fledgling Air Nation. (As much as a loosely organized group of ascetics, monks, and nomads could be a nation, anyway). Jinora, humble as she was, would be the last person in the world to demand respect for that, but Mako offered it freely. She deserved it, as far as he was concerned.

Still, Jinora recognized his formal tone and gave him an exasperated look. She didn’t like the renown. And she looked tired. Opal looked tired. Heck, Mako felt tired. Too many late nights, too many midnight crises. It was beginning to wear on them all. Meanwhile, the young man just behind Jinora, their first airbender recruit from years back: Kai; looked his usual spunky self. He was grinning cheerfully. Bolin, too. The two jokers of the group seemed to have an infinite supply of energy and good cheer.

“Ten-hut! Lieutenant!” said Kai, managing to look down his nose at Mako, despite being almost a meter shorter. “Give proper respect to-!”

“Knock it off, Kai,” snapped Jinora, displaying a little of the family temper which her father, too, sometimes failed to keep entirely under wraps.

Kai deflated.

Mako found himself the focused attention of Jinora and Opal, both of them with tight jaws and fatigue under their eyes; and behind each of them, their respective love-interests slouching under the weight of recent chastisement.

“Right,” said Mako, “Let’s get moving. It should be a routine rescue op. We’ll run it like we have been.”

He led the group over the small distance to the towering cylinder of light.

* * *

As Jinora stepped towards the spirit portal, she took a deep breath. She didn’t much like the Spirit World. It could be wonderful. It could be beautiful. But it could also be dark and sinister and scary. And it was far, far too changeable. It could be one thing for one moment, and then the opposite the next. Friendly, helpful spirits could suddenly betray you. Terrible, terrible things could happen to you, and not even death would ever come to set you free.

So no, Jinora did not like the Spirit World. She would never choose to go there. It was still hard to believe that people did. Not only ignorant citizens of the city, but Korra and Asami! They should have known better! When Jinora found out that Korra and Asami snuck away on a vacation to the Spirit World, Jinora had never felt so mad in her life. The Spirit World? Were they stupid?! Avatar or not, it was dangerous! And, oh by the way, when does everyone else get a vacation?! We all fought Kuvira, too. How about our vacation!?

Well, there was no point in dwelling on that right now. Jinora hoped Korra and Asami were safe and enjoying themselves, despite the jealousy she currently felt. They were going to be fine. Korra was the Avatar, and the Avatar was the person best equipped for sojourns in the Spirit World.

It turns out that being a demigod is an advantage in both the physical world and the spiritual one. Who knew?

The second-best equipped person was probably Jinora herself. She was strong with the spirits. She had a sensitivity, an intuition, and strange spiritual abilities which no one else had. Why? No one knew. Grandma Katara said it was because Jinora was born during the lowest tide of the year, and that linked her to the spirit world. Uncle Bumi said it was because Jinora was actually the reincarnated spirit of a particularly introspective Orangu-sloth. Which, honestly, seemed about as credible as Grandma Katara’s theory (everything was water, with her).

So, who was there to handle problems in the Spirit World? The Avatar, obviously, but she wasn’t here. That left Jinora. And no matter how much she disliked the Spirit World, she refused to let her own fear stop her from doing the right thing. She’d seen her father throw himself into incredible danger and outmatched fights her entire life- seen him bleed and wince and stagger. But he’d done what he had to do and never looked away. Neither would Jinora.

So, Jinora paused before the portal, like a firebender about to weld a gas pipe. She felt the others stop with her, waiting. Jinora was still mad at Korra. She was frustrated she had to deal with the Spirit World yet again. Deep anger, deep frustration. Jinora saw these in herself and knew they were dangerous, both here and in the Spirit World. She closed her eyes, placed her fingers together, and began clearing her mind.

Out with thoughts of Korra... Out with daydreams of a vacation, of times like before the Avatar came, when Father sheltered her and her siblings from the world’s problems... Out with the small guilt of snapping at Kai just now... Wait. That one could be outright solved right now.

“Sorry I snapped at you, Kai,” Jinora mumbled, eyes still closed, now half in a walking trance.

“No worries,” said Kai, his voice sounding muffled and distant to Jinora.

Another worry, good and gone. Another negative thought picked from her mind, like a smudge of grime cleaned away from the mirror of her mind. Jinora concentrated. Polishing and polishing, until:

Jinora reopened her eyes and gazed upon the portal. Was it not amazingly beautiful? And to have this wonder so close to Air Temple Island? So close to where she lived happily with her siblings and her friends and her parents! It was too good to be true! And tonight, she was going to go through that amazing portal and see all the wondrous things on the other side!

Jinora stepped into the portal, feeling a slight pull at the bottom of her stomach. That was normal from her experience, and now that she was used to it, it kinda felt good! And just like that, she was in a small clearing of graceful yellow grass. Surrounding the clearing was a stately forest of  
old trees, curled upon one another in elegant patterns that almost looked like some ancient script.

“The lost girl’s name is Zenna,” said Mako, who had followed Jinora through the portal. “She’s eight. She has reddish brown hair.”

Jinora listened, her eyes still exploring the surroundings. Mako’s voice was so mellow, which was kinda funny because Mako was a very unmellow person. He was wound tight like a spring on the inside; a river of very serious, still waters. That was why it hadn’t worked with Mako and Korra. Korra was a swift moving stream that was prone to violent flash floods.

“She lives with her parents in the lower east side,” continued Mako, “She just got a new puppy. Her favorite color is green. She loves slurping noodle soups.”

Zeena sounded like a perfect little girl! Jinora closed her eyes again, this time thinking about a happy child with reddish brown hair, slurping noodle soup and then playing with an energetic puppy. A vision flashed across the back of Jinora’s eyelids: a small girl huddled under the tangled roots of a fallen tree, scared and crying. Jinora opened her eyes, turned 130-degrees to her right, and skipped off into the woods.

* * *

Mako, Bolin, Opal, and Kai all watched Jinora skip off into the sinister-looking trees like an excited schoolgirl. The gnarled and twisted wood of the forest swallowed her up instantly, but she would be all right. Whatever it was that Jinora did, it kept her safe. She would encounter no danger, she would draw no malicious spirits. She alone could sense out and safely reach the lost child.

When Jinora found the child, things would get a bit more complicated. The rescuee tended to be emotionally distraught. They tended to be very scared. And that would draw in dangerous spirits like a bright light did bugs on a dark night. But spirits were rarely in a hurry, and those with malice tended to want to… savor the moment. So prey like a lost child might be toyed with for a long time, but events would immediately accelerate when potential rescue arrived. There could be lots of excited spirits, strong spirits- more than even Jinora, who was an airbending master, could handle on her own. But that was why Jinora carried a flare gun, and why the rest of them waited with anticipation near the spirit portal. They were the cavalry.

They waited, uneasily. None of them liked standing around while someone they cared for was in danger, but those anxieties and other negative emotions would just put Jinora in danger if they accompanied her. The area immediately around the portal was the only place that was mostly safe, as the proximity to the physical world seemed to limit their emotional impact on the surrounding Spirit World environment.

Still, spirits could (and did) show up around the portal. Or they came to outright travel through it, bent on unknown desires in the physical world. That still made Mako nervous. What did these odd entities want in Republic City? Was anything preventing the really dangerous ones from coming through? It was probably only a matter of time before something came along and caused some major problems for the world at large. Maybe some spirit plague… or some giant reptile spirit as big as a skyscraper, keen on a rampage through downtown…

Time passed slowly. No one spoke. They didn’t want to attract any attention to themselves. Many spirits were pretty uninterested in humans. But some were. And those tended to be the nasty ones.

Finally, a faint pop came from behind them. They turned to see a red smoke trail in the sky. It was a goodly distance off in the opposite direction from where Jinora had entered the forest. But the geography tended to play with you, and they’d all experienced this phenomenon before.

“There she is,” said Opal, relief evident in her voice. “Bolin?”

Bolin rolled up his sleeves, revealing arms thick with muscle. Mako always knew his brother was strong, but they weren’t teenagers anymore, and Bolin was clearly in the primal dawn of his adulthood. Something about earth-bending seemed to make earth-benders big, unlike Mako, who remained lean and agile.

“All right, it’s showtime!” said Bolin in an announcer’s voice. “Two love rockets, coming right up!”

Kai visibly winced. “I really wish you wouldn’t call them that.”

Bolin was undaunted. “Why not? I’m sending off my love! And I’m sending you to your love!”

Opal was clearly blushing, but she said: “Make it a really good one, Bo-Bo.”

“You got it!” Bolin hunched down, lowering his arms, clutching his palms like he was holding something heavy. “Here we go! Three… two… one!”

With a wrench of his entire body, Bolin thrust his arms upwards. The ground under Opal and Kai’s feet surged up into pinnacles of stone, thrusting the two airbenders into the air like super-powered springboards. Opal and Kai sent gusts of air out behind their feet, adding to their momentum.

Mako leaned his head back, and back, following their trajectory into the sky. When they appeared to be about the size of small birds, Mako made out the shape of extended wingsuits, and the two airbenders began soaring towards Jinora’s distant flare. That was a good one. The highest he’d seen them get.

Then he noticed something above them, something far, far up into the sky. It looked like some kind of grey blob. Mako stared at it a moment, not sure what it was. Whatever. If it were a spirit or something, it looked too far away to be a threat to his allies. Just some weird Spirit World thing, probably. He didn’t care what it was, so long as it stayed far away from him.

Turning his attention back to his brother, Mako saw Bolin was breathing heavily, also watching Opal’s progress across the sky. His usually cheerful brother had an extremely worried look on his face. Mako realized in that moment just how much his brother was in love with Opal.

But… he was still a brother…

Mako waited until Bolin finally turned away from watching the flying airbenders. Their eyes connected. Mako tried very hard to keep a smirk off his own face, but was pretty sure he was failing miserably.

“Bo-Bo?” said Mako.

“Don’t,” said Bolin. “Don’t start- YEEOW!”

Bolin jumped forward with a yelp. He arched his back and reached behind him, grunting as he seemed to wrestle with something.

“Gah!” he said, his body jerking. Then he brought his hand back forward.

Clutched in Bolin’s grasp was what appeared to be a struggling fish, wriggling against his fingers. Its small, silver wings were fluttering in desperation. A mouth of tiny, but very sharp-looking teeth snapped in frustration.

“A piranha-crow,” said Mako.

“Ya, think?” said Bolin. He gripped the bird-fish carefully and gave Mako a serious look. “You ready?”

Mako held up his hands, concentrated on the heat around him, the fire of the distant sun (or Spirit Sun, in this case), and gathered that heat in his palms. “Ready.”

Bolin tossed out the piranha-crow in a nervous, underhanded throw. The thing fluttered, righted itself, turned to fly away. Mako released the energy he’d bent into his hands, directing it at the flying fish. Scorching flames erupted from his palms, enveloping the creature. It made no sound nor complaint, but when Mako’s flames receded, it was nowhere to be seen. Spirit world animals were spirits, as one might expect, and it was unclear if they died… but dead, deformed, disapperated; regardless, that was one piranha-fish that wasn’t going to bother them again.

Bolin was rubbing his rear end and frowning. “Little jerk got right under my tunic and bit through my pants!” He withdrew his hand and revealed a small splotch of blood. “It’s bleeding!”

“Well, put pressure on it,” said Mako. “We don’t want the smell to attract more of them to the portal.”

“It’s a weird angle. Can you do it?”

“I’m not touching you there, Bolin.”

“Come on! We’re brothers!”

“That makes it worse.”

“Who’s gonna see it?”

“That’s not the-” Mako’s eyes drifted beyond Bolin. A multitude of shining flashes within the dim woods, first arcing one way, then another. Silver scales glinting in small patches of sunlight. “There’s more of them coming!”

Bolin spun around, a small red hole in the seat of his pants.

“Oh, man,” groaned Bolin, “They’re coming for my butt.”


	3. A Routine Rescue (cont.)

Jinora told herself she was having a wonderful time. Stately trees made this forest seem an elven grove. Neat clusters of trunks were interspersed with small glades of ferns and flowers. Translucent spirits fluttered here and there, colorfully pastel in their ghost-like forms. Jinora skipped past them, admiring their odd shapes and nonsensical forms: that one looked like a hand-propeller, and that one looked like a turnip with a mouth. No spirit took exception to the passage of a lone human girl, none of them disturbed by dark thought or desire.

As it should be, so long as Jinora maintained her focus. She could feel the flow of spiritual energy around her, felt it billowing all around her like… like...like when one sat on the bare mattress of a bed and your parents held each side of the sheet and waved it up and down above you, laughing since you were so in the way of their efforts to make up the beddings. Waves of energy flowed around Jinora, and somewhere ahead, there was a different feel altogether- a darker melancholy aura that drifted like the sour rot from the edge of a stagnant pond.

Jinora moved that way. Something was darkening the Spirit World over there. That was probably the lost child. Or, it could be a nasty spirit; but those sorts rarely wandered, preferring some private place of their own to haunt, like a canyon, or a gnarled tree… surrounded by faceless animals; all blind, starving, and helpless. That was one of several places Jinora had once stumbled upon and then immediately fled. Many Spirit World mysteries were best left undelved.

So this darkening aura was probably the fear of a child, and Jinora headed straight at its source. She was pointedly not thinking about all the nearby spirits who might be doing the same thing as her; but for different reasons. And those reasons gradually twisting and perverting as the negative aura itself began to work upon the approaching spirit.

Nope! Not thinking about that. It was just a nice woods with some nice spirits. That’s all!

Then she came upon the grey blob. The weirdness of it stopped Jinora in her tracks. The blob sat in a small clearing of the forest, a perfect dome shape about twice Jinora’s height; and maybe six arm-lengths wide? As if some squirt of grey ink had freshly fallen upon a desk and sat there, a domed droplet.

It also felt weird. Almost like nothing, but… also like something Jinora had felt before. It reminded her of Korra, and Unalaq, and giants clashing in the city bay. She wanted a closer look.

Jinora cautiously stepped into the clearing, walking up to the grey dome blob. It was somewhat translucent, and Jinora saw the grasses and plants of the glade inside, seemingly unharmed but still. And just in mid-air, a bird of some sort, suspended in the motions of flight, as if suddenly and abruptly frozen in ice. Was the blob cold? Jinora reached to touch the thing’s surface.

And stopped herself. No, one did not touch strange things in the Spirit World. Like how this place reacted to emotions and thoughts, it also tended to reciprocate actions: if you touched, you tended to _get_ touched. And that could be a very unpleasant event, like, oh just as an example: having your soul captured in a spirit vine and being slowly devoured, like a bug in a pitcher plant. Jinora shuddered, her focus breaking slightly at the bad memory. The forest around her darkened. A few passing spirits suddenly turned and looked at her, their eyes focused, narrow, aggressive.

Jinora shoved the memory from her mind. Instead, she thought about morning training, years ago, when Korra was relaxed and confident after the defeat of the Equalists. She’d finally figured out airbênding, and was honing her skills. Jinora remembered Ikki and Meelo offering a deluge of advice, and Korra exasperated and confused under the absolute torrent of words Jinora’s siblings could produce. Those were fun mornings. Good mornings.

The forest brightened. Jinora gave the strange grey blob a last look, then circled it at a respectful distance and continued on her way. Whatever that thing was, she’d never seen anything like it before. Maybe Father would know what it was. She could ask him later.

Jinora continued onward, the darkening aura growing dense around her like an invisible fog. The woods seemed to swelter under it, quiet and thick. Jinora had to be close. She stopped in the silence, listening. Her spirit sense had brought her here, but more mundane senses were needed to pinpoint the lost child.

She heard the sniffle of a distressed little girl- it reminded her of Ikki when she was young. Jinora turned towards the sound, walked around a thicket, and there she was: a child, perhaps four-years old, sitting in the gap of a fallen log, face buried in her little curled-up knees.

“Zenna,” said Jinora, approaching the girl in an urgent crouch.

The girl looked up, her eyes wide and tear-rimmed.

“I’m Jinora. Of the air nation. I’m here to take you home.”

Zenna’s green eyes seemed to glow with relief, then they shifted slightly, looking at something behind Jinora’s back. The girl’s eyes went even wider with fresh fear. She screamed.

Jinora spun, bênding the air with her in the movement, so when she finished turning, a dense wall of air was in front of her- and the black claws of some… some… red-eyed ghastly thing did not reach Jinora’s flesh. It was vaguely humanoid; a dark, emaciated torso cloaked in ruined fabric- spindly arms with clutching, grasping clawed fingers. A hooded, sneering face.

A wight, of some sort. And a big one. It edged backwards slightly, seeming confused by the failure of its attack. Wights were a stupid kind of spirit, all hunger and need- but that didn’t make its claws any less sharp. Jinora needed some distance. She bênt the airwall she’d made, pushing it outward, gusting it directly at the wight. The gangly thing staggered, shoved backward. Jinora focused her will into the air around her, siphoning the sky and funneling it all upon the wight. It stumbled farther away from them, shoved by the force of the wind. But Jinora couldn’t keep this up, and she certainly couldn’t do it while running with Zeena.

With one hand, Jinora maintained her focused gale on the wight. The roar of the wind notably dropped. The wight steadied itself, and shoved back towards Jinora with a labored step. Apparently, Jinora could not stop this thing one-handed. But her other hand reached for the flare gun at her hip. She snatched it, aimed into the sky without looking, and fired.

* * *

Bolin tried to keep his life simple: do the right thing, the best one could; but, the world was complicated and people could be confusing. Sometimes the right thing was hard to figure out, even so much so that what one thought was the right thing was actually the wrong thing. Like Kuvira and her uniting. ‘To Unite’ is to join together, right? Joining together is good, right? Wrong! Well, not always. Usually, it's good. But this time, with the ‘Great Uniter’, it was bad. And that’s wrong!

And people had tried to say Kuvira was wrong, but Bolin hadn’t listened because he’d been so sure he was right. One of those people was Opal, and not listening to her was easily the single worst mistake of Bolin’s life. But he’d managed to fix that. Barely. And now he listened to the opinions of people he admired. People like Opal (of course), his brother Mako, Avatar Korra, Asami, Jinora, and Tenzin.

But… Bolin had admired Kuvira and listened to her, hadn’t he? He should not have admired Kuvira, but how does one know who to admire and who not to admire? There was no clear answer. It was confusing and stressful. Which was the opposite of simple!

Was the world always like this? Or was it some new thing? Everything had seemed much more straightforward a few years ago.

Yet some things were still simple: like rescuing kids. That was never bad. So when Opal knocked on his bedroom door in the middle of the night, Bolin was excited and eager. Then disappointed that Opal was just there to tell him about another mission from Mako. But the mission details made Bolin excited and eager all over again, but in a very different way. A mission was a simple way to do the right thing! And alongside Opal! Bolin was in!

It was a chance to earn more of her trust back. Opal was a dream come true! A kind, beautiful woman who was fun- and most importantly, laughed at all of Bolin’s jokes and wisecracks, rather than rolling her eyes. Their relationship had been on the path to something out of Bolin’s fantasies. But then he’d gone and screwed it all up with the Kuvira business.

Bolin helped bring Kuvira down and rescue Opal’s family, and Opal and he were together; but… but it was not exactly… totally right. Something was still off. They would go on dates, they would spend time together, but once those events were over and the question of what to do next would arrive: Opal would get a little nervous and then leave. She would do nothing unplanned, and nothing beyond the date itself. Like they were conforming to the tradition of dating for no other purpose than to be dating. Bolin wasn’t sure what her behavior added up to, but he knew it was a bad situation. Opal was keeping him at a distance, and if he didn’t figure her out, he feared she was going to finish the job and push him away entirely.

All he could think of doing was to keep doing the right thing, the best he could. Being fooled once didn’t throw out the entire concept, did it? No way! Nuktuk didn’t back down from one little failure, did he? No way!

Nuktuk also didn’t back down from a shoal of frenzied piranha-crows. Neither did Bolin, but as the woods around him sparkled from sunlight hitting fish scales, he certainly felt some trepidation. There were hundreds of them! Maybe thousands! All gathering and swarming at the edge of the treeline, no individual yet willing to lead the attack into the open. Each of those fish was a bite waiting to happen, and the single bite Bolin already had on his rear was plenty. He didn’t want any more bites on his butt. But Bolin had to keep this portal clear, or Opal was going to get bitten on her way out with the rescued child. That was NOT going to happen; if anything was going to bite Opal’s butt, it was gonna be HIM!

Err, well… that didn’t quite sound right. Maybe not bite her butt, but Bolin had certainly had some interesting fantasies about Opal’s-

“Let’s do this, Bolin!” Mako shouted Bolin out of his thoughts, “You take that side, okay?”

“Right,” said Bolin, instinctively getting into a ready stance. He could sense his brother just behind him. How many times had he and Mako been back to back, defending something essential? Like their own territory on the pro-bênding pitch. Or some magical whatever that Korra was busy with. Plenty of times! And it still felt good.

Bolin eyed his 180-degrees of responsibility. It was fairly open ground with minimal vegetation. That was good. Without many roots and such in the soil, his earthbênding shouldn’t encounter much resistance. A tree root could really mess up a bênd, holding parts of the ground in unexpected ways. But what to do? Small, quickly flying targets were not exactly an ideal opponent for an earthbênder. He needed to get a feel for these fish-birds, something other than a bite, anyway. So…

Bolin stomped his foot, sending out his will into the ground around him. He felt the nearby earth in his mind. Not touching it; Not yet bênding it; Just sensing it; as if his consciousness was taking a big handful of the earth: like a child digging in the sand at the beach, letting it run through the fingers. There were rocks under there, of course, but most of them were too small for what Bolin wanted to do, and there were a couple of boulders deep down he didn’t think he could rip out. The soil itself was soft, loamy stuff. But that seemed to be his best option. If no convenient rocks were nearby, he would just make his own out of the soil. It just needed to be condensed before it would be solid enough to be a weapon.

Bolin clenched his fist, starting the bênd. He willed the soil to tighten, to compact itself. And so it did. As the soil gathered, a large ditch opened in the earth before him. At its center was a chunk of earth about the size of Bolin’s torso: a good size for a test attack. It wasn’t exactly a rock, but it was similar in principle to any sedimentary stone: a bunch of soil stuff pressed together real tight. Yet, the hardness in real sedimentary rocks took millions of years to cure. This creation of Bolin’s would be more like dense clay than solid stone, but certainly heavy and hard enough to be lethal, all the same.

The rock-creation process was fast thanks to Bolin’s extensive combat experience; Only a second passed. Which was to the good, as the bravest (or hungriest) of the piranha-crows suddenly broke the treeline and flapped towards Bolin, tiny white teeth eagerly snapping. Like a gate opening in front of an eager crowd, the rest of the piranha-fish followed: a swarm as thick as a cloud.

Bolin curled his bicep, lifting his rock, then thrust his fist forward, pushing outward with his will. The rock shot forward, rocketing towards the fish, and then through the shoal as every piranha-crow in the rock’s path deftly and efficiently flew around the hazard. A complete miss.

But that’s why it was a test attack! What if it had worked? That would have been great! But it didn’t work, and there were still a lot of teeth rushing Bolin’s way.

A burst of heat rushed across Bolin’s back. Mako must be laying down the flame back there. Surely, his fire was stopping these fish-birds no problem. Firebênding was so easy! Oh, look, a wall of fire, instant and lethal. One didn’t need to gather material for the wall, or figure out some clever way to use the wall to win a fight- the firewall itself won the fight! Because it was made of fire! Meanwhile, Bolin had to- has to do something real quick! Those things are close!

Desperate to keep the toothy swarm away, Bolin’s mind reverted back to basics: wall. Wall. Wall! But no time to make it hard! Soil would have to do.

Bolin stretched out his focus, stepped out into a wider stance, and bênt up a fence of soil from the ground. As wide as he could make it, which seemed to be roughly fifty feet, and that cut off Bolin’s view of the onrushing piranha-crows. (Hopefully, they didn’t think to swim around it.) Wait. Not swim. Fly. Oops, his needed to be a taller wall!

Bolin bênt the wall higher- up and up, twenty feet, thirty, forty- sweat suddenly burst from every pore of Bolin’s body, his mind’s-eye seeing the swarm of fish-birds on the other side of his rising wall. They were probably flapping upwards, racing the top of the fence into the sky. Fifty feet, too high, Bolin’s knees shook with the effort of holding the bênd. The fence stopped growing. A second later, the first of the piranha-crows topped the crest of the soil-fence, and started plummeting down towards Bolin and Mako, teeth first.

“Mako!” gasped Bolin, “Got a sec? Gonna need some of your fire over here!”

“Down!” responded Mako.

Bolin’s body responded to the command instantly, his legs relaxed, his bênd released, and he hit the ground, laying himself out flat. Bolin, like anyone who fought alongside firebênders, could get down very, very quickly.

A menacing heat flowed over the top of Bolin’s head. He craned his neck upwards, seeing Mako standing over him, arms outstretched to each side, gushing out fire from each palm. Behind the curling flames and blur of super-heated air, Bolin could see the piranha-fish circling, keeping their distance from the flames. They definitely were not normal animals- these things didn’t seem to have any sense of self-preservation. They were not going to flee. They were going to get a bite of human or die trying.

Mako began spinning, fanning out his flames in a wheeled wall, the ascending heat preventing any fish-birds from attempting an attack from above. Bolin felt sweat drip along his face and back. Mako may not feel much of the heat of his own bênding, but Bolin felt like he was in an oven. And another reason to sweat? No way Mako could keep that up for long, and it wasn’t actually killing any of the fish! The firewall was the same as Bolin’s soil wall: a way to buy time. But if they didn’t figure something out, quick. They were cooked.

Wait…cooked... An oven! That could work! They could use the piranha-crows’ own determination as a weapon.

“Mako! I have an idea! Stop bênding in three seconds!”

“Okay!”

Bolin didn’t need to stand up. In fact, earthbênding was actually a bit easier to do when stretched out on the ground: more body contact with the element. Earthbênding wasn’t like waterbênding, which had so many complex gestures to keep a fluid element under control: the earth stayed still. Bolin hugged the ground, extending his will through the soil, stretching out his wrists and ankles, then drawing circles with his extended hands and feet.

A new soil fence rose from the ground, but this one circular and compact, encompassing Bolin’s prone body and Mako standing over him. Mako’s flames sputtered to a stop as Bolin bênt the fence higher into the sky, stretching up and above Mako, sealing them in the bottom of a tall cylinder of earth. The blue sky was a circle above them, as if they were now at the bottom of a well.

Then that circle of sky darkened as the piranha-fish, once again racing the growth of Bolin’s wall, crested the top and began pouring down the long tube towards Bolin and Mako.

Mako didn’t need an explanation. All Bolin had to do was hold the bênd and watch: once the fish-birds got close, once they filled up the long pipe… Mako abruptly thrust both palms skyward. Heat suddenly prickled over Bolin’s exposed skin.

**Fwooosh!**

* * *

Jinora and the wight were at an impasse. It couldn’t get any closer to her and little Zenna, but neither could Jinora move while maintaining the concentrated wind storm that kept the murderous spirit at bay. She considered an airwall, or a bubble shield- but those forms of defense had a certain amount of risk: they could be penetrated, they could be too thin… it wasn’t perfect defense. So instead of shielding attacks, Jinora thought it was just plain safer to keep the wight’s wicked claws out of range entirely. And she didn’t have to hold out forever. The flare was launched. Help was on its way.

And it arrived like a stormfront. The trees bent sideways under a violent gust wind. The wight was thrown from its feet. Opal and Kai swooped in from above the forest canopy, landing gracefully next to Jinora.

Words were unnecessary. The three airbênders were trained and experienced in just this situation. Kai stepped forward and gave the wight another full-bodied galeburst, interrupting its efforts to regain its feet. Meanwhile, Jinora caught her breath while Opal kneeled down to talk to Zenna, still cowering in the log.

“Hello, I’m Opal. Let’s go home to your mom and dad, okay?”

Zenna wordlessly nodded and allowed Opal to pick her up. Jinora turned towards the distant spirit portal, its vibrational hum as good as a compass to her. She set off at a jog, with Opal following closely after, the child in her arms.

“Kai!” shouted Jinora.

Kai gave the wight one last gust, then sprinted after them. Now, it was a race back to the portal and the physical world. The wight seemed a clumsy spirit, but it might not be easy to outrun. The Spirit World and its denizens were not linear. Just because you left something behind you, doesn’t necessarily mean it was not also in front of you. And there could be other things in the woods than the wight.

They ran on, their ragged breathing and the ruffle of foliage the only sounds. The woods were less inviting than when Jinora had recently passed this way- the darkness of Zenna’s distress preceded them. Smaller spirits with glowing eyes watched them pass, fangs and teeth exposed. But luckily nothing was big enough to consider challenging three airbênders.

Then a familiar black arm shot out from behind a tree trunk, claws slicing in towards Jinora’s face. She flung her head back, her upper body followed, she limboed backwards, the claws passing an inch above her chin. A bênd of air pushed at her back, keeping her from falling totally to her back. Then Jinora made the air shove her upright. She spun upon the ambushing wight. Jinora’s will reached out for every bit of air it could reach, she gathered the bênd, and shoved everything she could into a galeburst.

The wight was crushed against the copse of trees, its thin body snapping against the bark. It crumpled to the ground. Opal and Kai sprinted past it and Jinora, who turned to follow them. The portal was near. No time to exalt over one victory.

* * *

Mako’s lungs labored in the super-heated air. The flames in his palms sputtered, his bênd coming to an exhausted end. Three bursts. Three piranha-crow charges down Bolin’s trap were vaporized, the last being the limit of Mako’s endurance. But this time, the sky stayed clear. Thank the spirits.

Bolin’s earth cylinder separated from the ground, lifting into the air to allow a gust of cooler air to hit Mako. Bolin sighed in relief, and he flung his arms, sending the long tube of earth crashing to the ground, like a discarded stick.

“I feel like a loaf of bread,” said Bolin. He took a deep breath. “And it smells delicious out here.”

The hearty aroma of cooking fish did fill the air, but these spirit animals didn’t seem to leave any corpses behind. Their frantic battle with the bloodthirsty shoals left no visible evidence behind, so when the returning airbênders emerged from the forest, they probably saw no hint of the deadly struggle so recently won.

Mako saw the child in Opal’s arms and felt immense relief. He doubled over, hands on knees as he continued to catch his breath. They’d done it. They’d made the difference. The operation was a complete success.

Jinora nodded at him. Eyeing him up and down and then Bolin. A silent question was on her face. Probably wondering what got them so tired.

Kai skidded to a grinning stop next to her. “Man, it smells good here! What happened?”

Opal set Zenna down, but the child clutched at her leg, giving everyone wide-eyed stares.

“It’s okay, Zenna,” said Opal, “This is Bolin and Mako. Mako is the policeman your parents sent to find you… and Bolin- Bolin! You’re so sweaty!”

“Ahaha... yeah….”

Mako took a final deep breath and stood up straight. This mission was over, but there was still work to be done. The parents needed to be notified. Zenna needed to be transported across the city to her home. Paperwork needed to be filled out and reports filed. A long list of blessedly mundane, physical world things.

“Let’s go back,” said Mako, ushering everyone into the nearby portal. No sense standing out here, waiting for more trouble to find them.


	4. Pre-Dawn Delivery

Opal Beifong welcomed the cool night air of the physical world. Her heart was still pounding from the run (while carrying a child) and seeing Jinora almost get beheaded (but Jinora had her tattoos for a reason.) The adrenaline rush was beginning to ebb. She shivered; cold outside, overheated inside, excited, tired, and… satisfied. She’d done it. They’d done it. A heroic deed, if she allowed herself to be immodest- which… she guiltily did.

Ah, what a rush! Was it wrong to enjoy this sort of thing?

Opal turned to her companions, everyone now returned through the portal. Kai looked happy, but he always did. He enjoyed heroics, Opal was sure. He’d been her partner in the air more than any other airbênder; a sporting little brother. Jinora, however, was more serious. She enjoyed the task being accomplished, but perhaps not the task itself. And Opal hadn’t spent much time around Bolin’s brother, Mako… but she wasn’t sure he enjoyed anything at all. He always seemed glum. Right now, he looked exhausted; and glum.

And Bolin... well- Bolin...

Opal was flooded with confusing emotions every time she looked at his face; his strong jaw, his cute nose, and those bright, green eyes! Her heart would flutter. She felt a little giddy, and a little… frustrated? But in a way that was new. Maybe it was what the girls in books felt when they wanted to see their love but they couldn’t. That was probably it.

Angry. Opal felt that, too. And nervous. And she couldn’t make either of those feelings go away, no matter how she tried to will them away. She could sometimes forget, like when Bolin and her were having a good time exploring the dockside shops, or trying some new and interesting food in the market- but then there would be a quiet, still moment; and Opal would feel the anger and the nervousness hit her like a rock. She would fill with the desire, with the need, to get away from Bolin altogether. That seemed to be how their dates always ended these days.

Opal wasn’t sure exactly what was going on with her regarding Bolin, but it wasn’t good. It wasn’t normal. And it was becoming a big problem: even now, as Bolin grinned at her in his friendly way, she was filled with a sudden burst of happiness, but that feeling was followed with dread: they would talk about the mission, they would go back to the Air Temple, and then- and then they would stand awkwardly in a hallway somewhere: Opal wanting to go to her room, but also maybe staying up, maybe alone, but maybe… not alone. And all those eventualities simultaneously seeming better and/or worse with/without Bolin!

Finally, Bolin would say goodnight, thinking her tired of him or something, and walk off to his room with those dejected shoulders he always got when sad. That was how their dates ended. Opal was just getting sick of it. Sick of herself, and sick of Bolin! Maybe it was just better for them both if they just… stopped.

But before Bolin could get much closer, Opal felt a touch on her thigh. She looked down to find little Zenna again clutching her leg, looking nervously around at the city skyline. The child should be relieved to be here, but perhaps the darkness of night made it look different; or maybe the poor girl must still be frightened, her recent trauma corrupting the familiar sights of her home city into potential sources of new danger and new fright. A confusion of old love and a fear of new pain.

Opal couldn’t imagine what that must be like. She flashed a look at Bolin, but his attention had switched to Zenna, too. Opal knelt down and hugged the girl. “It’s okay Zenna. We’re safe. We’re in Republic City now.”

Zenna buried her face in Opal’s shoulder. “I wanna go home.”

“Okay, Zenna. We’re getting you home right now. See that man, there?” Opal pointed at Mako, who was giving orders to one of the policemen now stationed around the portal. Zenna turned her head to follow Opal’s finger. “He’s going to take you home.”

Zenna turned away from Mako and reburied her face in Opal’s wingsuit. “No.”

The metalbênder officer saluted Mako, turned, whipped out his metal cords into the darkness, and flew away into the city night. Mako turned back to Opal, who gave him a concerned look. Mako’s eyes traveled to the girl attached to Opal’s leg and seemed to comprehend the situation. He approached and knelt next to Zenna.

“Zenna? I’m going to take you home in a police car, okay?”

The child didn’t even turn her head to look at him, instead she tightened her fists on Opal.

“Come on, Zenna,” said Mako gently, as he reached out and grabbed the girl at the hips in preparation to lift her up and away from Opal.

Zenna tolerated Mako’s touch, but as soon as he began pulling her away from Opal’s leg, she let out a terrified shriek. Mako snapped his hands back as if he’d been stung.  
Zenna managed to wrap her arms further around Opal’s thigh. It was a deathgrip that was starting to be uncomfortable for Opal, despite the little girl’s minimal strength.

A quick return to Air Temple Island was what Opal wanted; however, it seemed she was still needed. She put a gentle palm atop Zenna’s head. The girl softened her grip slightly.

“I’m going to go in the police car, too. Okay? I’ll go with you until you get home. How does that sound?”

Zenna’s small eyes looked up at Opal, shadowed in the night. But she nodded. And just then, the sound of a motor indicated an approaching vehicle. A police car rumbled up to the edge of the vine-covered glade which contained the spirit portal, it idled in the dark, obviously waiting for them.

Opal looked to Bolin, who was frowning slightly- clearly disappointed about something, but trying to hide it. But Bolin couldn’t hide any of his emotions. Meanwhile, Jinora and Kai were standing close to another, just quietly observing. Kai yawned.

“Jinora, would you mind taking everyone back on Juicy? He’ll listen to you. Juicy! Go back with Jinora and the others to the temple!”

Juicy had managed to quietly lumber up upon them in the darkness, surprisingly stealthy for such a huge creature, but air bison could be light on their feet. He gave a wet grunt. Opal knew that was a yes.

“Sure,” said Jinora. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

Goodbyes were exchanged between everyone, Zenna keeping her deathhug on Opal the entire time. Bolin walked towards Juicy with those downtrodden shoulders of his. But after he climbed into the saddle with Jinora and Kai, he smiled and waved as Juicy launched himself into the air with a big slap of his tail, quickly disappearing into the night sky.

“Thanks for the help,” said Mako. “The kid lives up West-Side.”

He turned towards the waiting car and began picking his way across the vine-strewn ground.

The West-Side!

Opal took one of Zenna’s hands in her own. This prompted the girl to release Opal’s leg and walk hand-in-hand. “West-Side!” said Opal, “Zenna! How did you and your friends get downtown?!”

Zenna followed Opal’s lead towards the police car. “Tram,” she said quietly.

“How old are you?”

“Almost seven.”

“And you got on the tram by yourselves? Mako, why didn’t the train people stop them?”

Mako turned to look at Opal over his shoulder. “If kids just walk near adults, anyone will assume they’re the parents.” He tripped slightly on a root, but maintained his balance.

Well, Opal could see how that would happen. Three kids entering the West-Side tram hub, looking around for a few oblivious-looking adults, then walking closely behind them onto the arriving tram. No employee would challenge it. Why would they?

“It’s a smart technique,” said Mako, this time keeping his eyes in front of his feet. “Kids can get almost anywhere that way.”

Opal recalled that Bolin and Mako spent most of their childhood as street orphans. Bolin referenced that fact from time to time, but she hadn’t heard many stories of early escapades. She made a mental note to ask Bolin about him and his brother sneaking into places as kids.

Mako reached the police car (it was an economy satomobile) and opened the rear passenger door. He stood aside for Opal, who pulled Zenna’s arm gently to get the girl to climb in ahead of her. She obligingly crawled into the center of the back seat as Opal sat down next to her. The seats were mundane fabric, as were the seatbelts. Nothing fancy in this budget vehicle, and the only glaring evidence of law enforcement was the metal grate separating the back passengers from the driver- and the pile of police equipment that took up the passenger seat.

Opal belted up Zenna and herself while Mako gave instructions to the driver, who seemed to be the same metalbênding officer as earlier. Then, he climbed into the opposite side of the rear seat with a sigh. The car set off gently, first proceeding parallel to the vine-park, then turning away from the eerie glow of the portal and lurching awkwardly over a curb to return to the paved street. They gained speed then, and the city swallowed them up, lighted buildings on either side, empty sidewalks, shops and restaurants closed up and waiting for sunrise. Which was... how long from now? Opal realized she had no idea. A couple hours, maybe- the night had that shade of darkness which seemed to indicate morning was much closer than evening.

The car drove quietly, the streets mostly empty. An occasional car. A few cargo trucks rumbling about their pre-dawn business. Zenna put her head in Opal’s lap and promptly fell asleep. Meanwhile, Opal’s mind drifted in a brief trance, fatigue blanking her out for a time. Then she thought of Bolin and felt that mixture of desire and anxiety creep into her mind, more poignant than usual due to the sudden realization that, for a few peaceful moments, she hadn’t been feeling those things. She needed to distract herself, but inexplicably to even herself, she failed to pick any topic of idle conversation other than:

“What happened to Bolin tonight?” Opal asked the window, then turned to look at Mako in the opposite seat.

Mako was sleeping, too. His head was hunched sideways against the car window, his mouth slightly ajar. But at the sound of Opal’s voice, his eyes blinked open and he jerked his head back upright. He turned bleary eyes towards Opal.

“Huh?”

Opal winced. She wished she’d looked first, rather than waking the man up. Mako had the look of warm death about him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No. It’s fine,” said Mako, rubbing his face aggressively. “I wasn’t asleep. Just- (yawn)  
‘...just drowsing a little. What did you ask?”

Well, there was no turning back now. “What happened to Bolin tonight? Why was he so sweaty when we got back?”

“Oh,” said Mako. He yawned again, turning his head back to look out his window. “A shoal of piranha-crows showed up. We had to do a bit of bênding.”

Opal waited for details, but none came. Mako continued to look out the window, his eyes beginning to droop a little. Opal realized that was it: Mako wasn’t angry or being terse; he truly considered the question answered and the story told: they had to do ‘a bit of bênding’. That was the whole story, according to Mako. By the spirits, if she’d asked Bolin that same question, she could have settled in with some popping corn and been treated to the oral version of a Varrick-mover.

This was Bolin’s brother? Opal laughed. Despite herself, she laughed. It was just a funny sort of surprise.

Mako gave her a curious look, still looking sleepy. “What’s so funny?”

Opal, still giggling to herself slightly, said: “It’s just: you’re nothing like your brother.”

Mako’s eyes sharpened and a fierce look suddenly burst over his face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh-” Opal was taken aback by Mako’s sudden intensity. She’d obviously hit some sort of nerve. “Your story. I mean: your answer to my question. Bolin would have talked my ear off. I was just surprised…”

Mako’s fierceness faded. “Oh, yeah... “

He looked a little embarrassed, looking away again. This time his eyes stayed open, sometimes gleaming in the light of a passing streetlamp, sometimes shrouded. It was quiet for a long moment, Opal still unsure what had twigged Bolin’s brother and why.

Mako broke the silence, his voice taking a softer tone, as if talking more to himself than to Opal: “He always was the talker. Never could shut up.” Then his voice shifted and he blinked, looked over at Opal. “And that Nuktuk business seems to have made it worse.”

“Ohh, don’t get me started on Nuktuk!” said Opal.

How many quiet romantic moments had been shattered by an abrupt Nuktuk reference? It was like Bolin felt obligated to punctuate romance with comedic relief! Though… sometimes it was really, really funny… - But still!

Mako let out a tired sort of laugh. “Yeah, he’s proud of it. Those movers were his first taste of fame. Back in the Fire Ferrets days, the pro-bênding press always focused on me, even though Bolin’s stats were better. Firebênding always gets more attention. I think because nonbênders aren’t as awed by earthbênding. Anyone can throw a rock. Maybe throwing a rock without touching it doesn’t seem that special.”

Opal wasn’t so sure of that. For most her life, she wasn’t able to bênd anything. A nonbênder with no more control over the natural elements than tools and ingenuity could provide. Meanwhile, three of her brothers were bênders, as was Mother. Dad and Bataar Jr. could not bênd, but they used technology to equalize themselves with the rest of the family. Opal had always regarded them as ‘sciencebênders’, but it wasn’t a term she ever used outside her own head.

Meanwhile, Opal grew up reading books and not really thinking about how she couldn’t bênd, or what she wanted to do with her life, or anything like that. Then one strange day, she waved away a pesky honey-moth and blew out a window with a gust of wind. The honey-moth had flown out the window, and so did Opal fly out of the confines of her own over-extended childhood to join the world, late-bloomed.

Now she rescued children, lived in a monastery, dated a mover star, and idly chatted with a police lieutenant in the back of a squad car in the wee hours of the morning. Yes, Opal’s life was a bit different than it had been. She never could have imagined such a… impactful existence for herself.

“Is that what got Bolin sweating today?” said Opal, “Throwing rocks?”

Mako smiled and waved off the question. “I’ll leave Bolin to tell the story. I wouldn’t do it justice. But he saved our lives tonight, that’s for sure.”

Opal filled with pride. “He’s good at that.”

“Yes, he is,” said Mako with a smile, and he looked back out his window.

The pride in Opal’s heart suddenly soured. Her mind suddenly tortured her with a sequence of negative memories: Bolin’s ill-timed comedy ruining romantic moments, Bolin acting uncouth around her family; And Bolin standing across a table from her and her family- with Kuvira at his side. Him on her side. Opal and her family on the other.

Anger and sadness boiled their way through Opal’s heart. Tears suddenly burned at the corner of her eyes. She looked outside her own window and stared at a fixed point on the glass, seeing but not seeing the passing cityscape on the other side.

“Too bad he’s not good at other things…” mumbled Opal, not really intending to say it out loud.

“What other things?”

Oops! A sizzle of adrenaline shocked Opal out of her melancholy. She really didn’t want to have said that. Not for Bolin’s own brother to hear! She glanced over at Mako. He was staring at her intently, all exhaustion gone except the dark bands under his eyes.

“Nothing. I was just-”

Mako’s voice turned hard. “What other things, Opal?”

“It’s nothing, I said.” Opal’s voice matched Mako’s tone. There was now a deep fog of tension in the backseat. Zenna continued to sleep, oblivious. If the driver was paying attention, he wasn’t giving any sign of it.

“Isn’t it?” said Mako. “You make a snide comment like that so I can hear it? Look, Opal. My brother talks. Apparently, so do you. I know something’s up between you two, but I can’t ignore it if you throw it in my face! So what is it? Don’t like him anymore? But don’t have the guts to dump him? I don’t like you stringing along Bolin like this!”

Not like him anymore? Opal was half afraid she loved Bolin. Not like him?! Something so petty and stupid as that?! Did Mako think she was just a schoolgirl leading his precious brother on? He had no idea what she was feeling, clearly!

Anger burned up through Opal’s neck. She clenched her jaw hard, remembering Zenna at the last moment. Not wanting to wake and alarm the little girl, Opal’s voice came out as a furious hiss: “No, Mako. It’s because your brother helped Kuvira _conquer_ my home!”

Mako’s anger evaporated, replaced by a wide-mouth chagrin. His eyes dropped from hers, looking at the car seat or maybe his own legs. He didn’t respond immediately, seemed in brief debate with himself, then his eyes flashed back up to meet Opal’s angry stare.

“Did Bolin ever tell you what he did in Kuvira’s army?” said Mako, “He moved food around for two years. Feeding starving people.”

“A million times! But he just followed her orders,” said Opal, “He once walked away from a town just because the mayor wouldn’t bow to his precious Kuvira.”

Mako frowned and shook his head. “He was a logistics officer. Kuvira was the leader. What could he do against her orders? His authority was only through her, as mine is through your aunt, and hers is through the President.”

“He wasn’t trapped in Kuvira’s army! He chose Kuvira to keep his own power!”

“The power to feed starving people! The stockpiles of supplies belonged to Kuvira, too! If he quit, he couldn’t help the people of the Earth Kingdom! That’s why he joined in the first place!”

“No. He stayed for Kuvira. Bolin believed her. He was in her council. He was right there when she showed up to demand my family surrender Zaofu.”

“He tried to stop the conflict between Kuvira and your mother! And he’d been in Kuvira’s ‘inner-council’ about fifteen minutes, at that point!”

Ill-mouthed spirits! Opal had heard that argument from Bolin so many times, she sputtered with anger at hearing it from Mako, too.

“S-So?! That means-!”

“That means-” snapped Mako, interrupting Opal’s building outburst. “Kuvira knew Bolin was close to your family. She knew that seeing him on her side would hurt all the Beifongs. She knew it would make you all angry. And it worked. And it's _still_ working! On _you_!”

All the simmering anger and frustration suddenly shot up Opal’s throat, her eyes going blurry with tears. “Of course it worked! Bolin was supposed to be on _my_ side! He was supposed to trust _me_! He was supposed to love _me_! But he loved _Kuvira_ more!”

Opal blinked away her furious tears, expecting to see an appropriately chastised Mako. Instead, she found him looking at her with a calm sort of ‘eureka’ look.

But Zenna had jolted awake to Opal’s shouting, and the girl began crying. Opal rubbed her back. “Sorry, Zenna. Sorry. Everything is fine, I just got a little angry.”

The car was silent while Zenna settled back into a whimpering sort of sleep. Opal resolutely looked out her window, trying to settle herself. She didn’t know where all that anger had come from, but she was surprised by her own words. The problem she was having with Bolin, the one she hadn’t been able to put her finger on for months, had just spilled out her own mouth. If there was any doubt in Opal regarding Bolin, it was obviously going to be related to Kuvira- that was no surprise to her. But the exact reason was something of a revelation: she was… jealous? As if Bolin had two-timed her with Kuvira? Maybe she was a silly schoolgirl, after all.

She gave Mako a brief, embarrassed glance. But he wasn’t looking at her. He was gazing thoughtfully out his own window. Maybe even a little smug. Had he played her? He was a policeman; A detective for several years, trained and practiced in interrogation and confession. He served under Aunt Lin, herself; who even Mother said was as sharp as she was hard. Aunt Lin didn’t have kids, so Mako might be the closest thing she had: a sort of protege.

Before Opal could decide if she’d been intentionally manipulated or not- and if she was angry about it or not. Mako sensed her gaze and turned back to her.

“My brother is the most genuine person I know,” said Mako. “He doesn’t wear a mask- I don’t think he even can. There is no subtlety in him. No deception. When you look at Bolin, Bolin is all you see. That’s what makes Bolin Bolin. He’s honest, straightforward, loyal, caring, empathetic… But… I think that genuine-ness goes both ways for him. He believes the best of those he likes, and he doesn’t see under the mask of anyone. I’m not sure he can. If someone puts on a goodly facade, Bolin won’t see through it.”

Opal still felt like she was under attack in some way. She struck back instinctively. “That makes him a fool.”

But Mako wasn’t offended. He just shrugged. “Foolish, I guess. And Bolin certainly enjoys to play the fool. Ham it up. But even if he wasn’t my brother… any person who is that devoted to doing good for other people… I would never call them fools. Or if they are fools: I’d rather live in a world full of them.”

Opal didn’t have anything to say to that. Bolin was golden-hearted. It was just a fact. Which is why his behavior with Kuvira was so shocking and- infuriating!

“If he had just listened to me instead of Kuvira-”

“Bolin didn’t love Kuvira,” Mako said, cutting her off gently. “He loved rebuilding the Earth Kingdom. We grew up homeless, Opal. Orphan kids on the streets of Republic City. We never had a real home. But in the Earth Kingdom, we found our father’s relatives. And Bolin… I think Bolin finally found the home he always wanted. Then Zaheer killed the Queen and Ba Sing Se went up in flames and we had to evacuate. Homeless again. Then, Kuvira was putting the Earth Kingdom back together, and that’s why Bolin joined her. He wasn’t doing it for her. He was doing it for himself. He was trying to rebuild our home.”

That-! That was… interesting. Opal hadn’t thought about it all that way. The idea didn’t make her angry, at least. Maybe there was something in that interpretation...

The car came to a soft stop. Opal looked out her window to see a townhouse with lights glaring out every window. The front door opened. A man and a woman stood hesitantly in the doorway, silhouetted against the light. There was no time to think about Mako’s words now. She opened the car door and gathered little Zenna into her arms. There was no need to wake the girl, maybe it was even better this way.

She got out. Mako got out and simply stood near his door. Opal turned to find Zenna’s parents rush-walking down the walkway towards the car. She handed sleeping Zenna to them: there was frantic and whispered thanks, a blur of courtesies, and then the relieved parents took Zenna back into the house and the door shut.

Opal turned back to the police car. Mako was still standing on the other side, looking at her. He hadn’t said a thing during the entire delivery of Zenna. He claimed no credit for his part, nor seemed to desire it. But he was watching her.

“Do you want a ride back?” he asked.

“No,” said Opal. “I’ll get back on my own.”

Mako nodded, seeming to have expected that answer. “Thanks for your help today, Opal.”

Then he got into the police car and it drove off into the pre-dawn, leaving Opal alone with her thoughts.


	5. King Wu's Abdication

**BAM!**

Mako jolted awake to the unmistakable feeling of paper on the side of his face. He grunted and pushed himself upright, finding himself in his office chair at Republic City Police Precinct 4. His bleary eyes looked for the source of the sudden noise.

Leaning against the closed door (likely the recently slammed door) was a stern, silver-haired woman in a metalbender’s uniform. Green eyes glared out from a sharply-chiseled face; crossed-arms did little to hide a lithe figure that would be the envy of many younger women, and would gain the appreciative glance of many young men, were they able to withstand the woman’s almost perpetual scowl of displeasure.

Mako shot to his feet and saluted. “Chief Beifong!”

“Good work last night, Mako,” said Lin Beifong, “Damn good work.”

Mako relaxed slightly. If Lin wasn’t addressing him according to rank, this was not a formal visit. They’d been on the same side of so many battles that the camaraderie between them was deeper than the strict formality of rank allowed. If Lin was here as his police chief, she would have addressed him as Lieutenant.

“The airbenders deserve the credit. And my brother saved my life.”

“I’m sure,” Lin gave him a stare. “But I’m not here for your report. I’m here to take you to the capitol building. The Republic Council is requesting you, ASAP.”

“Me?!”

“Yes, you. I have a car waiting, so fix yourself up and let’s go. You look like shit.” She then turned and left the office, slamming the door behind her.

**BAM!**

From experience, Mako knew she wasn’t mad; that was just how Lin Beifong closed doors.

* * *

A quick trip to the precinct showers and locker room allowed Mako to regain the basic levels of hygiene required by society, and he opted for his dress uniform, since he was headed for the capitol building. He achieved a shower, a shave, and new clothing in under ten minutes. Mako strode for the precinct’s front entrance and found Lin Beifong standing atop the steps like an imposing statue, her sharp gaze making officers nervous as they passed in and out of the building.

  
“Took you long enough.”

Mako found nothing worthwhile to say in response, so he simply got in the car with the police chief and their driver started off and merged into morning traffic. Satomobiles buzzed everywhere, with a few examples of the other brands of cars here and there: a normal weekday morning in central Republic City.

Along with a normal traffic jam along Aang Boulevard. The cause: a satomobile striking a market cart, sending most of the crops into the street and causing chaos. An officer was attempting to mediate between the car driver and the cart owner, which drew Mako’s idle curiosity as their car’s driver picked its way through the vegetable minefield.

“But officer!” the apparent cart driver yelled, “My cabbages!”

And then the scene was behind him, and the traffic again moved smoothly down Aang Boulevard towards capital square. It was a short ride from Precinct 4, all things considered; and a quiet one. Lin Beifong wasn’t one for idle conversation.

Their car turned into the giant looping driveway of the capital itself, but was forced to stop at a security perimeter. Four police officers stood nearby. They looked at the car with bored curiosity, but did not move the barrier, nor did they move to investigate the car and its occupants.

Mako heard Chief Beifong growl. She threw open her door, strode out into the street, and-

**BAM!**

The car shook from the force of the closed door. The police officers all turned their heads towards the sound. They visibly paled. One dropped their coffee cup, its steaming contents spreading rapidly over the pavement. And then Chief Beifong began yelling something, which caused all the officers to begin opening the police barricade. Then Beifong yelled something else, and they all froze, then hurriedly closed the barricade again, then two of the officers sprinted forward to the car, they checked the driver’s identification and gave Mako a cursory glance, then they sprinted back to the barricade and helped their comrades move it aside.

The car moved through. Lin Beifong remained outside, staring down her officers, the side of her face pulsing slightly as she clenched and unclenched her jaw. Mako didn’t envy any of those poor souls.

The capitol building was a modestly sized building of stately columns and a large dome top. The vine-like trees which had infested most of the city several years ago had been gentle on this place. Several large roots tangled around the outside of the building’s front, but avoided the main entrance, and those that had burst from the top of the building’s dome actually formed a rather picturesque leafy canopy for the entire square. But what drew Mako’s attention was the giant, saddled dragon sunning itself on the portico roof. The flying red beast was not unknown in the city: it meant the retired Firelord, Lord Zuko was here. And there were signs of other prestigious personages: a variable swarm of security personnel surrounded the capitol doorway. Water Nation spearmen wearing the light blue of the Northern Tribe clustered near the darker blue soldiers of the Southern Tribe- all of them somewhat warily glaring at a cluster of masked Fire Nation troops opposite the main sidewalk. A cluster of nervous-looking metalbending police stood between the two groups. And a saddled flying-bison was lazily grazing on the lawn. Mako recognized the beast as Aapa- a common sight in the city.

The car stopped and Mako exited, unsure if he should proceed into the building or wait for Chief Beifong to finish berating the barricade guards. The busy courtyard was clear indication that important people from all the world’s nations were present, except (and most conspicuously) the Earth Kingdom. No soldier in the green and grey of the world’s largest nation was visible. Mako found that somewhat ominous.

“Come on” said Chief Beifong, striding past Mako at an angry pace. “We don’t have much time.”

Mako started after her. “What’s this about, Chief?”

Lin didn’t respond and silently led Mako into the atrium. The somewhat gilded architecture of the building’s exterior gave way to a sort of bureaucratic blandness. This was also the heart of the city’s infrastructure, and mainly functioned as a public office. But there were no citizens in here today, only more security, and the stairs to the upper floor were heavily guarded. Lin strode towards the stairs, security melting away before her, and Mako followed in her wake up to the second floor.

Here the decoration and beauty of the building restarted, the hallway and carpets being almost baroque. They turned a corner and found a heavily guarded double-door, soldiers awkwardly clustered together. Again, Earth Kingdom troops conspicuously absent.

“Good luck, kid,” said Lin.

“Wait, you’re not coming in?” said Mako.

“Not me, kid,” said Lin, already walking away, “That room is above my paygrade, thank the spirits.”

Mako watched her depart for a moment, his mind running through any scenario that the President would want him to come before the entire Republic Council. There was only one possibility: Wu. It was something about King Wu. The immature royal had been a pain in Mako’s ass ever since he showed up in Republic City. Mako had been detailed as his bodyguard and only recently convinced Wu to release him from that duty, thanks to Wu’s imminent abrogation of the Earth Kingdom throne… and of the entire royal line, since he was the last one alive.

Well, there was no point in waiting in the hallway. Mako walked past the line of guards and modestly opened one of the double doors to the council room. This was not the main chamber used for public declarations. It was smallish, cozy, containing a single rectangular table and colored chairs: one bright beige, three blue, one red, one green, and one purple. The world’s leadership was not seated; however, they stood around the table and seemed engaged in muted discussion as Mako entered. But all heads turned to Mako and he received a mix of serious and thoughtful looks.

Tenzin of the Air Nation stood on the far left in his yellow and brown robes; Next to him was… not the Fire Lord, but a serious-looking young woman in an elegant red dress. She looked to be about Mako’s age, and at her shoulder was bearded and scarred Lord Zuko, so she must be his granddaughter and current-Fire Lord Isumi’s daughter: Crown Princess Komiko; then, next was Korra’s father, Tonraq, the large and chiseled Chief of the Southern Water Tribe; and next to Tonraq’s burley figure was his nephew and niece, penguin-like in their blue cloaks. They were the twin Chiefs of the Northern Water Tribe, Desna and Eska (or was it Eska and Desna?); and finally the thinly mustached Republic President Reiko, who looked rather out of place in a purple suit, sitting in the purple chair.

“Good, you’re here,” said President Reiko.

Mako went to attention and saluted. “Sir!”

“At ease, Lieutenant Mako,” said the President, “You’re not here in the capacity of the Republic City Police.”

“Yes, sir,” said Mako, taking an at-ease position with his hands behind his back.

Tenzin cleared his throat. “We asked you here in the capacity of being the only person King Wu seems to listen to...”

Dread went through Mako’s body. It was as Mako had thought: something about King Wu. Was he being assigned as Wu’s lifelong bodyguard? Please spirits, anything but that. He would have to say no. But could he say no? Can one defy the wishes of every single government in the world, simultaneously, and still live a happy life?

Why me?

“Yes, sir?” said Mako, keeping his face as stoic as possible.

“We-,” started Tenzin, hesitated, then continued. “We know King Wu is coming this morning to officially announce his abdication of the throne. But- we would like you to convince him not to.”

Mako felt immediate relief. No bodyguard duty. Thank the spirits. The world suddenly seemed like a happier place. Freed of its private fear, Mako’s mind started working again.

Not abdicate? Well, that was the reason the leaders were in the private council room rather than the huge public one. But Mako thought Wu’s abdication idea was one of the few good ideas the fool ever had. He seemed to lack most qualities one would want in a ruler, and the Earth Kingdom would probably be better off with almost anyone else in charge. So... why?

“What are the reasons to do that?” asked Mako, trying hard to keep his voice even. “I thought his idea to give power back to the provinces was a good one.”

President Reiko slapped his hand on the top of the council table. “What you ‘ _think_ ’ doesn’t matter, Lieutenant!”

Mako kept his face carefully controlled, but he felt the fires of his anger simmer in his stomach.

“We’re the ruling council of-” said Reiko.

Chief Tonroq’s deep voice cut the President off: “He has a right to ask, Reiko.”

The President’s mouth shut. He grimaced, driving the corners of his mustache down, but he waved his hand in a dismissive motion that seemed to cede the point.

“The monarchy is the only central power in the Earth Kingdom,” said Princess Komiko, her voice musical but stern in tone. “I suppose a commoner lacks the perspective of leadership, so let me advise you: A firm command of a state’s united military is required to maintain peace amongst the provinces.”

Mako felt his hackles rise, anger simmering higher in his chest now. This little princess was’t the Fire Lord, she’d never led anything except what her mother gave her to lead. Mako was vaguely aware that Lord Zuko, who was standing slightly behind his granddaughter, had a somewhat embarrassed expression. He was unsympathetic to his relative’s opinion. So, in Mako’s rash judgement, that was a signal the princess was fair game.

“This _commoner_ can see the obvious,” said Mako, “Which, apparently, princesses cannot: Kuvira was in firm command of the Earth Kingdom’s military, and look what happened! That’s why this meeting is even happening, isn’t it? And, excuse me, but the Fire Nation has always had ‘firm command’ of their armies, and I seem to recall there is something called the Hundred-Years-War?”

The Princess’ small mouth gaped open slightly, her eyes wide in shock. Just behind her shoulder, Lord Zuko wore a small smirk. Mako interpreted that as Lord Zuko enjoying this.

“Tha- that war was over seventy years ago-!” said Princess Komiko, her voice thick with indignation. “And I-”

“No!” said Mako, cutting the princess off, causing her a second mouth-gape of shock. Mako sensed victory and was unable to help himself. “That was _only_ seventy years ago. And Kuvira was only a few weeks ago. Central power does not guarantee peace. It causes the opposite.”

Tenzin cut into the conversation: “I think we’re losing focus on the real issue here, and that is the safety and livelihoods of the Earth Kingdom’s citizens. Enemy that Kuvira was to us, she did bring order and peace to her people... By force and threat of force, yes, but regardless of the methods, the Earth Kingdom is in better shape now than it was after the Earth Queen’s assasination. Domestic trade is active. Economic activity is resumed. People are working and the markets are full of goods. That progress is valuable, and the only thing holding it all together right now is the tradition of the monarchy. The provincial governors are expecting a ruler to sit in Ba Sing Se.”

“They are waiting for it,” said Lord Zuko, “I believe they fear to take any action of their own in case the new King, an unknown entity, disapproves of it. They are politically paralyzed now, but that won’t last long. And neither will the patience of the military’s generals. Three generals of the former Council of Five are still camped, with their troops, alarmingly close to Republic City, awaiting orders.”

President Reiko cleared his throat. “What the issue here is-”

“Tenzin and Lord Zuko are making good arguments, Mako,” said Chief Tonaq. “You mentioned Kuvira was ‘central power’ gone wrong, but what happened _before_ Kuvira was how _no_ central power can go wrong.”

“Yes,” said Eska, her face was a monotone as her voice. “When the queen was dead, the entire nation shattered.”

“Collapse of infrastructure,” said Desna, equally monotone.

“Banditry,” said Eska.

“Warlordism,” said Desna.

“Civil war,” said Eska.

“Famine,” said Desna.

“Inflation,” said Eska.

“And all of that,” said Tenzin, cutting off the twins, “was only repaired by Kuvira as a source of strong central power.” He paused for a moment, then said, “And we’re not saying he should _never_ abdicate, Mako. King Wu is the rightful ruler of the Earth Kingdom, and we have no authority to direct the actions of any ruler. But, him abdicating now, and so suddenly… it seems-”

“Moronic,” said Princess Komiko, her eyes blazing at Mako like she wanted to set him on fire.

Mako strongly suspected that she was actually calling him moronic, but he wasn’t about to start a match of name-calling with a crown princess. He’d won his point with her, but the arguments of the other world leaders… especially Tenzin and Tonroq, both of whom Mako held in high regard… gave him pause to think: What _would_ the Earth Kingdom do without King Wu?

Well, each province would hold elections like Republic City. But who would enforce the integrity of the elections? Who would even run them? And how many provincial leaders would, of their own accord, set up the means for themselves to lose power? Mako doubted many would, and those that did, well- they would probably win, wouldn’t they? _Oh, look, a million votes for me. I guess I stay the governor._ And then, even worse, what if one province decided it wanted some mine, or some farmland, that another province had. There could be war. There could be dozens of wars as dozens of suddenly independent states began jostling for their own power and wealth. That would be a disaster.

And did Mako really have a choice? He could feel the collective gaze of all the world’s governments upon him. There was really no answer but yes. And in Mako’s heart, he could see their point, and see that it was probably for the best. King Wu should not abdicate. For now.

“Thank you for explaining your position,” said Mako, “Since all the leaders of the United Republic are in agreement, I’ll try and convince King Wu to maintain the throne.”

“Good, Lieutenant,” said President Reiko.

“I hope you can think quickly,” said Tenzin. “King Wu will be here in five minutes, though he’s never on time...”

Mako saluted, turned stiffly on his heels, and walked out of the room. The republic leaders stood in a thoughtful quiet. Everything there was to say was said. They just had to wait and hope for Mako’s success.

* * *

Mako stepped back into the hallway and let the doors shut behind him. He tried to maintain his stoic face, as while he had left the rulers of the world, their gathered private security now eyed him. Mako decided to move down the hallway toward the central stairwell. Just before the corner of the hall, with the bodyguards at a distance, Mako stopped and fought a small battle with his own temper.

Awake half the night in the Spirit World. An hour’s sleep at his desk. An urgent summons to city hall where, oh, did I forget to mention? You’re meeting with world leaders about something. I don’t know. Ask them. And then: thanks for coming, Mako. Please, convince that moron not to drive his nation into its second political collapse in five years. Sorry for the short notice, but be quick about it.

Mako’s fists were tight and he felt a little snapping noise in his mouth from how tightly his jaw was clenching. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to go home and go to bed. Spirits be damned, he’d settle for a trip back to nap at his desk. But no, no… there were things to be done.

Mako sighed and turned from the hallway wall to look out the opposite window. An overcast day was developing: an unseen sunrise was slowly turning the murky grey morning into a misty white morning. Mako gazed out on people walking the sidewalk outside, imagined the chilly moisture of the air on their cheeks. Where were they going? What did they have to do today? Whatever it might be, their days were probably going to be better and easier than his.

You know… I don’t have to do any of this...

(It was not the first time Mako had entertained this particular fantasy, but he followed down the logical path in a ritualistic sort of way.)

I could leave, right now. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. I could head out, get something to eat, go to sleep. Forget the police force, forget the council, just be a private citizen again. Get back into pro-bending, maybe. If anything, I’m even better than I was before.

Then Mako’s eyes refocused. Instead of looking outside the glass window, he looked at the glass itself, wherein was his own reflection, semi-transparent against the brightening day outside. He was tired, but he was here. He was working to better the world for everyone. That was important work; and he could not, would not allow himself to be just another lazy fool who confidently assumed everything would be fine; a fool who just trusted that someone, somewhere would do the work required and make the world right. No. He had to see it done himself.

Mako’s mind flashed through a series of faces: Bolin, Tenzin and his kids, that room full of leaders, Asami… Korra… All of them would look upon him with disappointment if he abandoned his work. They would say they understand. They would say his life was his to live, be happy. But they wouldn't actually understand. Not really. Not deep down. And they would fall out of touch. They would be busy. And Mako would find himself an old friend from old times… entirely cut out from their present lives, present thoughts, present objectives. To all of them, he would effectively cease to exist.

So, Mako would go on. Like his esteemed friends and allies. There really was no other choice. And that meant he needed to figure out how he was going to convince King Wu to abandon the abdication idea. And abdication had been the only thing on King Wu’s mind for the last week. The young royal was obviously enamored with the idea, so perhaps Mako could figure out why that might be, which would give him-

“Heeyyy! Mako! My man! Whatchu doin’ here?” said a flamboyantly cheerful voice.

Mako spun around to find a thin young man smiling at him; He wore a green suit, he had his hair gelled up, and he stood with his spine arched back slightly in that cocky, confident way of his. King Wu, ruler of half the world- by virtue of heredity, anyway. But lacking any of the charisma to actually… do the ruling part. Only tradition and legal institutions propped up his throne, and it had already suffered one successful coup, to the world’s detriment. Mako feared another was inevitable.

So, frankly, Wu didn’t have any reason to feel cocky or confident about anything. He was practically helpless on his own- though he did have his admirable moments. But for the most part, Mako would describe Wu as the most entitled, self-centered person he had ever met. Though if one was raised in luxury and destined to inherit a kingdom, perhaps that was inevitable.

“Your majesty,” said Mako with a bow.

“Whoa! Whoa! Dude! None of that.” said King Wu, “I said you had a lifetime bowing exception.”

“Right. Thanks for that.”

“No problemo. Anything for my guy, guy.” King Wu winked, then turned towards the council chamber down the hall.

“Why are you here so early, King Wu?” said Mako, who knew exactly why King Wu was here. But he was desperate to keep the young man’s attention while he thought of some way to convince the monarch of a different path.

“Abdication, Mako! It’s time! I’m done with this royal stuff. Freedom! I’m here to tell the other leaders and then I got an early appointment at this soapy massage place.” King Wu gave Mako a considering look, then brightened. “Hey! Wanna come with me? The girls are gorgeous and they touch you all over... While you’re naked!”

“I don’t think-” started Mako, only half hearing what King Wu was saying. He was getting an idea. Women. King Wu was obsessed with women. Perhaps that was the best way to get his attention...

“Come on, Mako,” continued Wu, “How long’s it been since a gorgeous girl touched you while you were naked?”

Mako glanced down the hallway. King Wu was not a quiet speaker, and all the bodyguards down there were now looking in their direction. Mako’s jaw tightened and he grabbed King Wu by the arm, pulling him back around the hallway corner.

“Hey! What-?” said Wu, surprised by Mako’s force.

“King Wu,” said Mako, silencing the monarch. “I’ve been thinking about your abdication, and I don’t think it’s a good idea right now.”

“Well, my mind is made up, Mako.” said King Wu, jerking his arm from Mako’s grip. “I’m doing it.”

“Have you fully considered all that you are giving up?”

“Yes, a great deal and-”

“What about the greatest and more important duty of a king?”

“The governors can do a better job of-”

“No, King Wu. Not that,” said Mako. He lowered his voice. “What about the production of an heir?”

King Wu paused. He was paying close attention now. “And? What about it?”

“Well,” said Mako, knowing that his fish was starting to look at the baited hook. “There is no bachelor more attractive to women than an heirless king.”

“Mako… Have you seen me?” King Wu gave a beaming grin. “I don’t need a kingdom to attract the ladies.”

“...Right…” said Mako. “But what about attracting the _fathers_ of the ladies?”

“Ew! What?!”

“Think about it! If you stay as king, then all of the noblemen of the Earth Kingdom, and even some from the other nations, will be fighting for a chance to introduce you to their daughters! You would be awash in beautiful women!”

King Wu’s mouth was slightly open and his eyes were glazed over. He was thinking about it. He had the bait in his mouth. Mako just needed to set the hook.

“And then, King Wu, as you spend private time with all those beautiful women... both _father_ and _daughter_ will only have one single objective on their mind…”

King Wu’s eyes refocused on Mako. “What? What objective?”

“Procreation,” said Mako.

King Wu’s eyes narrowed in confusion, but then opened wide in obvious abrupt realization. He grabbed Mako’s arms, his eyes still wide. “Mako! Mako! Thank you! I almost made the biggest mistake of my life!”

The young king let Mako go and whipped around the corner, leaving Mako alone. Well, it had been a rather simple strategy, but it seemed like it was effective. There was nothing left for Mako to do but wait. He walked back around the corner and saw the council door drifting close, King Wu having apparently already stormed inside.

Wu’s distant voice confirmed it: “Fellow leaders! I’ve decided _not_ to abdicate!”

The door shut. Mako let out a long breath. Well, that seemed to be a clear indication of success. He supposed he could go home now- wait. No. He had to get back to the precinct and finish his reports. Then maybe he could go home and-

The council chamber door burst open again, startling the guards. An extremely satisfied King Wu emerged and strode back down the hallway towards Mako. He watched King Wu approach, and the young man gave him a strange, excited look- like he was sending a secret message to Mako alone.

“Well, it’s done!” said King Wu, “I told them I was keeping the throne! They seemed disappointed but I’m sure they’ll get over it.”

“I think-” began Mako.

“Man, I don’t think I’ve ever been more excited to be King than I am right now! I need to get going! There’s so much I need to get ready! I need some new clothes! New cologne! I gotta go! Thanks again, Mako!”

King Wu started off towards the stairs, then he froze, stop, turned back to Mako. “Oh yeah, they’re ready for you in there.” King Wu began walking backwards, giving Mako a double thumbs-up. “You’re gonna do great!”

Mako watched Wu spin back around and walk energetically down the hall, his head thrown back in a sort of happy strut. Had Mako done the right thing? How many millions of souls were now in the absolute control of that… ass?! Well… it was an improvement on Kuvira, at least. King Wu was too self-centered to even have ambitions outside his own self, so he was unlikely to mistreat his population, except perhaps through neglect.

But what had he meant by his last comment? Mako was going to do great? At a simple debriefing? Mako sighed. As if a debriefing was hard? What an ass.

Mako dutifully went down the hall, passed the curious guards once more, and opened the doors to the council chamber. Glaring eyes met him immediately, stopping Mako in his tracks. He could feel deep tension and anger in the air.

Oh man… what had King Wu done?

He walked towards the council table. The silent glares continued. Lord Zuko was almost snarling. Princess Komiko looked like she wanted to burn him alive (which actually wasn’t different from before). But, Chief Tonroq had his chin down, glaring from under his brows aggressively. The twins had deeper frowns. President Reiko wasn’t looking at Mako, his face in his palm, leaning on the table top. Even Tenzin was grim, his expression one that Mako had only seen him use towards his enemies.

President Reiko suddenly slammed the table with his fist and shot to his feet. He had a furious look on his face, and he strode directly towards Mako and leaned forward.

“So that’s how you play it? Huh? You little rat-skunk!”

Mako leaned back, his surprise complete. What was going on?!

Reiko continued his face-to-face tirade: “Think you’ll be the next Kuvira? A better one? Well, don’t count on my surrender! Not this time!”

And with that he stormed out of the room. Mako watched him go, then turned back to the other leaders, all of them still giving him dark, grim looks. Too confused to say anything, Mako glanced from leader to leader, waiting for an explanation.

“Mako-,” said Tenzin, finally. His face wavering between confusion and anger. “Why did you do it? I admit, you’ve completely surprised me.”

“Surprised us all,” growled Chief Tonroq.

What was this? Mako began to get angry. They asked him to convince King Wu not to abdicate, and now they were mad about it!

“I did what you asked me to do!” said Mako.

“I don’t recall this particular request,” said Lord Zuko.

“Whatever you have planned,” said Princess Komiko, her chin raised in a defiant glare. “You won’t catch the Fire Nation sleeping!”

Mako’s confusion only grew, and his anger began to burn in a frustrated fury. “What?! I don’t have anything to-! Wait... You know what? Forget it! I convinced King Wu not to abdicate. I did what you asked. Now you’re mad? I don’t get it. And you know what? I don’t care anymore. I have work to do back at the precinct.” Mako gave the august body of world leaders an angry salute. “Good day.”

He turned towards the door and began to walk out.

“His... precinct?” said Princess Komiko, her voice confused.

“A local branch office of the city police,” said Lord Zuko, also sounding a bit mystified.

The abruptly changed tones gave Mako pause, he turned to look behind him. All the leaders were still staring at him, but they had confusion on their faces. Less anger than before, but a sort of wariness.

Then one of the twins began to laugh. It was a strange, tittering sound that didn’t sound organic.

“Ahahahahahahaah...” laughed Eska. “He doesn’t know. Ahahahahahaahah...”

Desna looked at his sister. Then, without smiling, began laughing the same sort of laugh.

“Ahahahahahahahah. It wasn’t his idea. Ahahahahahahaha.”

The world leaders looked at the twins, then at each other, then back at Mako.

“Is he acting?” said Lord Zuko, his eyes narrowing.

Tenzin slowly shook his head, his expression softening as he did so. “I’ve known Mako a long time. He has many strengths, but acting and subtlety are not among them.”

“Nor in his brother,” said Eska. “Ahahahahahaha.”

“Hero of the South,” said Desna. “Ahahahahaha.”

Anger blazed through Mako’s body. He thrust a finger at Eska. “Don’t insult my brother right in front of me!” He looked around at the gathered leaders. “Enough of this! You all know something I don’t! What is it!?”

The leaders exchanged more looks. This time they were thoughtful, calculating. Tenzin then cleared his throat.

“Well, Mako,” began Tenzin. “King Wu… King Wu appointed you his Lord Chancellor.”

Ice ran through Mako’s body. He didn’t know what that meant exactly, but he immediately knew it meant trouble for him. A lot of trouble.

_You’re gonna do great!_

That-... **fucker**!

“Wh- what...” stammered Mako, “does a Lord Chancellor do?”

“From my understanding of Earth Kingdom law,” said Lord Zuko, “The Lord Chancellor is appointed by the monarch to hold sweeping power over all matters of state, both foreign and domestic. Second only to the King himself.”

“It means, Mako,” said Chief Tonroq, “you effectively... rule the Earth Kingdom.”

Mako’s mind whited out. He felt numb. His knees wobbled slightly.

“I- I think I need to sit down,” Mako’s voice sounded faint to his own ears.

"Well-” said Tenzin. He walked over to the green chair at the council table and pulled it out, his other arm ushering Mako forward. “...there’s a chair for you, right here.”


End file.
